Telling Time
by Sela McGrane
Summary: It's third year for Hermione and her friends, and she's taking full advantage of the time turner McGonagall entrusted her with. Then, toward the end of the year, something goes wrong when she makes a jump to the past. She returns to exactly when she's supposed to be, but she's no longer quite the same girl. In fact, she doesn't even have the same name. HG/MM
1. Chapter 1

**My desktop computer decided to die on me - new motherboard on the way - which means that I have no access to all of my existing projects. Of course, I'd get into a writing mood at the very same time, so you guys are getting a new story. It will be multi-chap, though I have no real plan as to how far I'll go with it, or how long of a story it will become in the process. For now, I offer chapter one of "Telling Time". A new twist on an old concept. I do hope you all enjoy.**

* * *

A woman with curly brown hair, about forty, appeared out of nowhere in an empty corridor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Well, I'm back," she muttered, slipping the necklace she was wearing under the cover of her black robes. She'd been in this very spot when her adventures had begun all those years ago, though to the people in the castle now, she'd been gone for so short a time that her absence had not even been noticed. If her memory served correctly, she should be heading to Potions class, though it would be awkward to go sit in a class full of fourteen year olds. She'd have to explain, of course, but she wasn't about to do that in front her a large group of children and one snarky Potions Master. No, she'd go to the Headmaster - he'd know what to do. In all her planning, she'd not really considered how to handle coming back here - she just worked tirelessly on getting this far.

Hermione Granger cast a notice-me-not charm on herself and headed toward Dumbledore's office. It didn't take long to find - these halls were still very familiar. She'd been here as they'd been built. The Head Tower used to be Salazar's offices, and Hermione felt her gut lerch at the reality check of how she'd never see Salazar, or Rowena, or Helga, or Godric ever again. History had never told much about who they were, just what they did. But Hermione knew. Gods, she knew and knew well.

As she approached the Stone Gargoyles, she smiled a little, remembering something that Albus probably didn't even know about. "Hassalessar. Sessissens," she hissed. Briefly, Hermione wondered if Tom Riddle had ever realized the Head's office could be accessed by parseltongue. While not a gift Hermione had been born with, Salazar had given her a potion to make her one, which she thought would probably be useful in the coming years. War was inevitable, she knew, even if the majority of the wizarding world was not ready to accept the threat of Voldemort. He would rise again, and then, chaos.

Albus Dumbledore was not in his office. Rather, the Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall, sat at his desk, frowning over some parchment. Hermione smiled at the woman, who had yet to notice her, thinking that perhaps Professor McGonagall would be the best one to talk to after all, given that it was McGonagall who had given her the original time turner. "Professor?" she greeted carefully, wand at the ready. When she left, she'd been a child, and she was wary that the Deputy would not recognize her, only seeing an intruder she couldn't identify.

McGonagall's wand was pointed at her moments later, and held steadily on its target as the Scottish Witch moved away from the desk and toward the uninvited guest. "Who are you, and how the bloody hell did you get into this office?" she asked.

Hermione was taken aback at the colorful language coming out of her former Professor's lips. The McGonagall she remembered never swore at all, though the brunette's mind quickly reasoned that McGonagall would have guarded her language around the students. As far as she was concerned now, her visitor was a fellow adult. No need to put on hiers.

"I got in with the original password for this tower," Hermione said quietly. "Which will override any current password. Who I am is the third year student that you issued a time turner to, several months ago by your recalling. For me, it's been thirty years in the past since I'd been heading down to the Potions class taking place at this very moment."

McGonagall's face went pale. "Hermione Granger," she whispered, lowering her wand.

Hermione had expected to be recognized once a frame of reference was given, and it was obvious that Minerva did not doubt her conclusion at all. "Yes," she said simply. There was nothing else to say.

"Where, or rather _when_ have you been?" the older woman asked, ushering Hermione to join her on the nearby sofa.

"I arrived in 988, just before the four ponces you all call _The Founders_ broke ground to build Hogwarts," she replied with a reminiscent grin. "I popped into this large field, right on top of Godric. He never did let me live that down."

"Godric… as in Godric _Gryffindor_?" came an amazed question.

Hermione nodded. "Depending on the day, he was either insufferably cheerful or woefully depressive. There's so much, Professor, so much that the modern Wizarding world doesn't know about them. They had no reason to, but they took me in. Underage laws didn't exist then, so I was able to help them build the school."

"Salazar Slytherin, pureblood extremist, _sheltered_ a muggleborn witch?" McGonagall asked, obviously shocked.

Hermione laughed. "Of the four, he is the most misrepresented by history. Salazar was a good man. What people don't stop to consider is that in their time, the wards we have today had only begun developing, and they were developed because witches and wizards were being murdered by muggles who feared them and their power. He was justified in his desire to segregate. It was not about hating muggles, per se, but about protecting wizarding kind. The only muggles he hated were the ones who'd taken part in the killing."

The other woman looked thoughtful, and then blinked at Hermione as if suddenly remembering who she was talking to and what problems that presented. "Miss Granger…"

"Professor, I'm forty-five years old. "Please, just call me _Hermione_."

"Minerva, then," the other woman agreed, seeing the oddity in addressing a grown woman as she would a child. "As you just pointed out, you're an adult. An adult with no Hogwarts transcripts, and should you explain your situation to the Ministry, they will undoubtedly arrest you, assuming that you'd tampered with the timeline at some point in the last several decades, and you'd be sent to Azkaban."

"Well I'd really rather avoid that, if you'd be so kind as to not turn me in. _You_ didn't recognize me, so it's doubtful that anyone else will, either," Hermione mused. "If you're amicable about that, then the next question is how to explain Hermione _Granger's_ disappearance, and how to explain Hermione _Slytherin's_ arrival."

"Hermione Slytherin?"

"Generally a woman takes a man's surname when they've married," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow, and awaiting the Head of Gryffindor's reaction. She was not disappointed.

"You _married_ Salazar _Slytherin_?!" Minerva gaped, looking affronted if not offended at the notion.

Hermione laughed outright. "For my protection, yes, and I'll admit that there were certain marital benefits, but the love we had for each other was no more than I had for Harry or Ron. The love given between close friends."

Minerva huffed. "That's only slightly reassuring. How do I know you've not gone all dark witch on me, in your absence?"

The younger woman looked incredulous.

"Alright, fine, stupid question," Minerva conceded. "Harry Potter is your best friend."

"Honestly, Minerva, I was thinking more along the lines of how I thought you knew me better than that. Realistically, I can't expect to continue with the friendships I left. It would be inappropriate for a forty-five year old woman to be close friends with two boys of the raging hormones age."

The other woman nodded. "So, back to the issue at hand… do you intend to keep the name _Slytherin_ , or should be fashion you a new one?"

"Well, I suppose if you and I were to marry, I could take the name _McGonagall_ ," Hermione teased, "But sans that option, yes, I'd prefer to keep the name I've used for the last twenty-five years."

Minerva flustered, but said nothing.

"Oh, don't be like that," Hermione chastised. "The Wizarding world, then, had far less stingy views on sexuality. Salazar was not the only lover I've taken in the last three decades."

"Yes, well…"

Hermione smirked, amused that she'd gotten under Minerva's skin. She'd always suspected that her Transfiguration Professor leaned _that way_ , though it hadn't really mattered much at the time. Now, Hermione found herself evaluating the older witch, woman to woman, and realized that there were many reasons to be attracted to Minerva. Of course, that was hardly the first thing she needed to worry about. Later, perhaps, she'd pursue the notion.

She pressed forward. "Given all that myself and the boys have gotten into in the last couple of years, I don't think it's unreasonable for you to tell my classmates that my parents have withdrawn me from Hogwarts and transferred me to another wizarding school - the boys will still be able to Owl me, and I can reply and still be a friend to them, but from a safe distance. When they are older, I'd like to tell them the truth."

Minerva nodded. "That's reasonable."

"Regarding my own doings in the present, I can claim to have been home educated, and go down to the Ministry and takes the NEWTS, which should allow me to transition into wizarding society. Job wise, I'm unsure."

"Remus won't be staying past this school year," Minerva mused. "If you can also test for a Mastery in Defense, I am certain I can talk Albus into giving you that post in September. Do you think you can manage to get all that testing done in four months?"

Hermione nodded. "Easily. I'll worry about that over the summer holiday. Until then, I can rent a room at the Three Broomsticks and be available if Harry manages to get himself into more trouble this year. I'm sure you understand when I say that even if I can't be an active presence in his life as his friend, Hermione Granger, I still want to be there for him. Ron, too."

"I'm getting the feeling that you'd already thought out this plan before you arrived, and you just played unsure to make me feel as though I had some input," Minerva grumbled.

The brunette laughed. "Well, I wasn't absolutely sure I could secure the Defense post, but given that no one has lasted more than a year in decades, it was a good bet the position would be available."

"How will you manage financially until September?"

"Sal left a few artifacts where I could find them, which I will be able to sell with little problem. That should tide me over," Hermione shrugged.

"I still can't imagine you married to him," Minerva mused. "How will we explain your having that name, on that note. His line died out years ago."

"Long lost relative," Hermione shrugged. "I'm a parselmouth now, and I am fairly sure that will make the purebloods, who'd be most skeptical, believe my claim."

Minerva nodded in agreement. "That takes care of the Wizarding World, I suppose, but Hermione, what about your parents?"

The younger witch frowned. "I'll tell them the truth. It'll be an adjustment; I'm their age now. I'm fairly sure they'll be understanding. I'm just glad I was able to come back right _when_ I left, so they didn't have to worry about me for however long."

"I guess that's it then."

The silence that followed for the next few minutes was broken when Albus Dumbledore entered his office. "Well, Minerva. Who is _this_ lovely woman? New paramour?"

Minerva looked aghast. Hermione tried not to snicker.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Two chapters in one day! Don't get used to it. I am simply on a roll and lack the patience to make you guys wait even a day for an update I'm done writing. My self control is not that good. :P Enjoy!**

* * *

Minerva wasn't quite sure what to make of Hermione... _Slytherin._ She'd known and understood Miss Granger well enough: she was driven, smart, loyal, and brave. The consummate Gryffindor. This grown woman she'd just dropped off at Rosmerta's seemed only a shadow of the girl she'd chastised about not eating enough, just this morning. She was still brave, and obviously loyal to Harry through a lifetime of absence, and her drive to learn seemed intact. But she was more than that now. She was cunning, and had age earned wisdom. She handled herself with grace. And, as Albus had observed, she'd grown into a lovely woman.

An attraction to Hermione, as very basic as it was at the moment, was causing a bit of conflict in her mind presently. One one hand, this morning Hermione had been her student. Her fourteen year old student. Then suddenly she wasn't anymore. Not a student, and certainly not a child, and that was not going to change. There was no undoing that Hermione had lived decades in the space of the few seconds that had passed here, now.

And what a life! Minerva couldn't imagine living in the same time as the Founders, let alone living with them. Hermione had done that and more. She'd been married to Salazar _bloody_ Slytherin, for the love of Merlin. In her own right, Hermione was a living legend now. Minerva wondered if Hermione would leave a written account of her journey, even if it could not be shared with the public till after her death.

There was a knock on her office door, and in came Misters Potter and Weasley. As Hermione couldn't very well say goodbye to her friends, it had been agreed that they would have to villainize Hermione's parents, to a point, claiming that they'd sent words to have her brought home at once, and expressedly forbidden her to bid farewell to her friends, whom they blamed for her near death experiences the last two years. Later, Hermione would Owl the boys and claim that she could Owl them from her new school, and while she could not see them, she did want to keep in touch.

This of course, was left up to Minerva to explain to them. Albus couldn't do it on account of his meeting with the owner of Honeydukes about stocking Lemon Drops. Minerva personally thought _this_ was more important, but Albus had an absurd attachment to that dreadful muggle candy, and his priorities were obviously not in order where they were concerned.

"Professor? You wanted to see us?" Harry said quietly. "Is it about Hermione?"

"Yes it is," Minerva confirmed, not surprised in the slightest that the boys had already noticed her absence. In their shoes, she would have begun panicking when Hermione hadn't showed up to Potions. That reminded her - she needed to add back the twenty points Severus had deducted from Gryffindor for her not showing up. It was not her fault, and was _officially_ withdrawn from Hogwarts prior to the start of Potions class, so he was not within his rights to dock points pertaining to her. "I'm afraid that Miss Granger's parents have opted to withdraw her from this school. She left this morning."

"Withdraw?" Ron asked, aghast. "But… we need her!"

Minerva frowned at him. "I'm sorry Mr. Weasley, but I'm afraid you'll have to do your homework yourself from now on. Miss Granger is gone, and will not be returning. Her parents have come to the completely ridiculous conclusion that you boys were a bad influence on her, and have expressedly forbidden her to have any further contact with you. Of course, if I know Miss Granger, she'll find a way to contact you regardless. She is a loyal friend."

"We know, Professor," Harry said for the pair of them. "Thank you for letting us know. We were concerned."

"As I expected you would be," she said with a nod. "Now, I think it best you both return to the Common Room and get a start on that homework I mentioned."

Ron blushed, but Harry just nodded. It never ceased to amaze Minerva how much Harry just took things in stride.

The boys left, and Minerva went back to the papers she was almost finished grading. That finished, she grabbed her cloak and headed to the Floo, having offered to meet Hermione for dinner. It was _not_ a date, no matter what Albus said when she'd let him know she'd miss dinner in the Great Hall. Minerva just recognized that Hermione no longer had Harry and Ronald for friends, nor did she have Salazar, Godric, Helga, and Rowena. Admittedly, Minerva was looking forward to hearing more about the men and women that the Founders had really been.

"Minerva," Hermione greeted, smiling softly.

"Hermione," Minerva replied, returning the gesture.

At the counter, Rosmerta eyed the pair, a fact that was not escaping Minerva's notice. She also did not miss the smirk, and the mouthed accusation; _cougar_. The proprietess had been filled in on the truth of Hermione's identity at the time traveler's insistence. Hermione reasoned that should the truth come out at any point, and she needed to escape, the quickest way to escape Hogwarts would be via Floo to Hogsmeade, and then Floo to somewhere else.

The only Floo at Hogwarts which was not locked out of locations other than Hogsmeade was in the Head's office, and Hermione couldn't guarantee she could get there unhindered in the worse case scenario. Rosmerta had one of only four fireplaces connected to the network here in town, and her loyalties were to Dumbledore alone - he having gotten her out of a spot of major trouble some years before. She could be trusted.

"Good evening, Rosmerta!" Minerva called across the room. "And don't you even start with me!"

"Start what?" the buxomy woman asked, not even trying to sound innocent.

"Hummm," Minerva uttered. "How about you feed us and we'll forget about it."

"I'll feed you," Rosmerta agreed. "But I'll still come up to the castle for tea this weekend."

"You're insufferable."

"But not unwise," Hermione interjected. "Fitting to a Ravenclaw."

"I've never mentioned being a Ravenclaw," Rosmerta said, confused.

"No, you didn't. I'd imagine you were actually a hatstall, and that you chose Ravenclaw over Slytherin," Hermione said assessingly.

The woman at the counter looked at her, amazed. "How could you possibly have known that?"

"Instinct," Hermione replied with a smirk. "Fun fact for you both - the Sorting Hat is actually imbued with my essence, in a similar manner that portraits are made. We fashioned it right before I returned here. Before the Hat, it was just… me. Sorting was my job, along with the position of Charms Mistress."

Both women gaped at her. This was the sort of thing Minerva _hated_ about time travel. Things that you'd just accepted as the way they were, suddenly got turned upside down and the truth of the matter seemed so bloody _obvious_ once you'd been told. "Whose voice does it mimic?"

Hermione laughed. "Algernon. Rowena's father. Dear Merlin, that man was a hoot! Would have been a Gryffindor for sure, had there been a Sorting when he was a child."

"Would you tell us about them?" Minerva asked. "The Founders?"

Rosmerta placed their meals in front of them, then took a seat on her side of the bar, looking just as interested as Minerva was.

"Well for starters," Hermione whispered. "They would have all _hated_ being referred to collectively. They each valued individuality greatly."

"So more more calling them _The Founders_!" Rosmerta laughed. "Got it!"

"Go on, Hermione," Minerva urged gently. Had she not been in a public place, she might have made a more fervent plea to continue, regardless of how childish she looked. The Founders, _ehem_ , Godric, Salazar, Helga, and Rowena this is, had fascinated her from early childhood. She's spent hours in the Library once she'd come to Hogwarts as a student trying to dig up information on them, with little success. This conversation was nothing short of a childhood dream come true for her.

"Well, I told you a bit about Salazar already. He was a kind man, his first interest was always in protecting wizard kind. His great downfall, as one could guess, was his pride. He was so very bad at being wrong, though in his defense, he seldom was. Every action was carefully thought out. He wouldn't do something unless he felt sure it would go as he expected."

"Rowena was nothing, and I mean nothing like history recalls. She was smart, yes, but she was more often a wise-arse than she was wise. It was her who made most of the mistakes in the group, though it usually had to do with things like forgetting to get that month's grocery supply. Nothing life altering or earth shattering. She wasn't afraid to say sorry for it either. Oh, she was also fantastic in the sack," Hermione added with a smirk.

"Okay, okay, let me get this straight," Rosmerta interrupted. "You shagged not one, but two of the bloody Founders?"

Hermione ignored the collective identity usage, and grinned even more. "And often at the same time," she admitted with a blush. "Like I told Minerva, sexuality was more… open, then. And I had just entered puberty when I arrived. My views on sexuality was shaped by Sal and Rowena."

"What about Helga and Godric?" Rosmerta asked in a suggestive tone.

"They were fairly wrapped up in each other for the first fifteen years I was there, and then Helga came to the realization that Godric would never grow up, and she was ready to settle down and start a family. Helga was like that, always thinking ahead. It was actually her idea to build Hogwarts. She went to Salazar for funding, and he suggested bringing Rowena on board - they were already lovers by then, so I expect that had something to do with his motives. After they started drafting the plans, they realized that Sal's resources wouldn't cut it, so they recruited Godric. At first he wasn't interested, but Rowena convinced him in the end."

"How?" Minerva asked.

"Guilt," Hermione replied with a sad look. She didn't comment further, and after a pause, she continued. "The ground Hogwarts sits on actually belonged to Godric, so having that took a lot of the financial strain off of them. I arrived the night that they'd gone to survey the property, landing right on top of Godric. _A little young for you, don't you think?_ Helga said. I was mortified, and that was before I realized exactly _who_ those four were."

"I'll bet!" Rosmerta laughed. "So what happened to Godric and Helga after they parted ways?"

"Godric finally grew up after meeting a young woman named Susan Prewitt - a distant relation of Molly Weasley, if I remember my genealogy correctly."

She looked at Minerva for confirmation, and Minerva nodded. "Prewitt is Molly's family name, yes."

"And Helga married a muggle man by the name of Thadius Potter. I will never, ever be telling Harry that his family began in Hufflepuff. He's too proud of being a Gryffindor!"

The three women all laughed, in obvious agreement of Hermione's thought. "James would have been absolutely appalled!" Rosmerta commented."

"Well anyway," Hermione continued. "Salazar and Rowena were still together when I left, so I honestly don't know what broke them apart. I already knew, from before I left, that they each married other people. Sal married some pureblood woman, of bloody course, and there's no record of who Rowena married, only that she did, and then mothered Helena."

By now, Minerva and Hermione had both finished their supper, and while they might have continued talking, Rosmerta was called away for other customers, and Minerva took that as an opportunity to excuse herself from Hermione's company. It had been less than twelve hours since Hermione had shown up in her office, and Minerva's attraction to her seemed to be growing by the minute. Still, she was not even close to ready to even _think_ of acting on it, and with as forward as Hermione had been thus far regarding sexuality, she didn't trust the younger witch to not make a move that might land them in bed before Minerva was ready for that. Hermione may have finished growing up and spent her adult life thus far in a world where casual sex was accepted, if not expected, but Minerva had never been that kind of woman. She wanted something more. She wanted love. The question on the table at the present was if or not she could look past Hermione _Granger_ and let herself love Hermione _Slytherin_. And even more importantly, could Hermione love her?

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

**And... three updates in one day. Please don't have a heart attack. Just enjoy the fact that my muse seems to be on steroids at the moment.**

* * *

It had been just over a month since Hermione had returned to what was technically her present, but she still felt awkward and out of place. Rosmerta was turning into a good friend, and she couldn't be more pleased by the way her relationship with Minerva was flourishing. At present, it was just a friendship not unlike what she was developing with the proprietress of _The Three Broomsticks_ , but unlike with Rosmerta, Hermione felt her feelings for Minerva might be less than platonic. While she'd been joking that first day back in the Head's office, about marrying Minerva, the more she got to know the woman, the less it seemed like a ridiculous notion.

During her time with Salazar and Rowena, Hermione had more than enjoyed herself, but she'd never let herself _feel_ anything beyond great fondness for the two. She always knew that one day, she'd find a way home, and her Gryffindor sense of honor wouldn't allow her to just _give up_ looking for the means to that end. She had to go back - not because she felt overly wanted outside of Ron and Harry - but because she knew she'd be needed.

She couldn't explain how, but she just… _knew._

Now that he was in fact home, Hermione felt considerably behind in the romance department. A forty-five year old, never been in love? It really sounded pathetic. As much as she tried convincing Rosmerta and Minerva she'd not missed that deeper commitment, the truth was that anytime she had longed for it, she'd taken to bed with Sal or Rowena, or both, and for a few hours, she could forget that her own mishandling of a time-turner was why she was missing out on that fairy tale romance that, as a child, she'd promised herself to find one day. At six, _one day_ had meant something to the effect of in her late teens or early twenties. Not nearly _forty_ -six.

An incoming Patronus from the Headmaster tore Hermione from her musings. " _Come to my office at once. Bring your timeturner."_

Regardless of not liking the implications of Albus' request in the slightest, she popped a secret drawer in her recently purchased desk and pulled out the device before clamoring down the stairs to use Rosmerta's Floo. "Off to see Albus!" she called to her friend by way of greeting and goodbye, stepping into the flame as soon as the Floo opened.

"Albus," she greeted, as she flicked her wand to remove any soot from her robes and feet. "What can I do for you?"

"I'd like you to take young Harry on a short timeturner venture," he replied with a twinkling eye. "Certainly, with your experience you'd be the best qualified to help him with his task."

"Task?" Hermione asked with a growl. She was liking this conversation less and less by the second.

"At this very moment, Sirius Black is in one of the dungeon cells, awaiting the arrival of a representative from the Ministry, who will officiate the Dementor's Kiss upon his person. Harry wishes to stop this from happening," the Headmaster explained.

"Why on earth would Harry want to do that?" Hermione inquired seriously. "Black is a convicted murderer. He's the reason Harry's an orphan!"

"Ah," the elderly man said, his posture indicating there was a _but_ coming. "It seems that we've all been quite mistaken in that assumption. Harry discovered just half an hour ago that it was not Mr. Black who betrayed his parents, but rather another of the self-called _Marauders_ , a man called Peter Pettigrew, who has in fact been masquerading as a rat in young Ronald's care. He's an animagus, you see. As is Mr. Black, as it happens, which does explain how he escaped Azkaban."

"If Pettigrew has been caught, why is Sirius still being executed?" Hermione wanted to know. It didn't make sense, unless Albus was not telling her everything, which she expected was the case.

"I'm afraid that Pettigrew managed to escape in the hustle to get clear of Professor Lupin at the rise of the moon," Albus said sheepishly.

"So," Hermione stated, clearly annoyed. "You want me to go back in time, with Harry, to save a man who did not commit the crimes that you and the Wizengamot convicted him of. What of Pettigrew?"

"Harry and Ronald did not mention seeing a woman capture Pettigrew, so we must keep that in sync," he replied. "If you happen upon him, secure him somewhere till after the loop is finished, before bringing him to me. That said, by then, Sirius will already be worse than dead. He must be the primary priority.

For the first time, Hermione regretted agreeing to tell Albus who she was and where she came from. He had to know that she'd rather be locked in a closet with a Boggart than risk being stranded in time, _again_. On the other hand, she knew that Remus would be leaving in a few weeks - she was set to take his post - and it really had helped Harry this year to have a living link to his parents. Sirius was more than just a friend of Lily and James Potter, he was Harry's godfather. Despite her unease, she nodded in agreement. "Tell me where to find Harry."

"Hospital Wing, visiting Ronald, who was injured this evening."

"Is Ron alright?" Hermione asked at once, worried.

"A minor injury, he'll be fine in a day or two," Albus waved her concerns off. "Though I think it wise that young Mr. Weasley not be aware of your doings with Harry."

"I'll Obliviate him when we return," Hermione nodded in agreement.

Albus nodded his consent, and Hermione quickly made for the Hospital Wing, mentally reminding herself that she'd have to call Harry ' _Mr. Potter'_ , odd as it would sound coming out of her mouth. She'd never in the three years she'd known him, ever called him anything but _Harry_. Remus did get away with calling him that, but he had good reason, being a friend of his parents. Hermione could not claim that as she'd have no stories to tell of them. She would have to forge trust with him the old fashioned way - from the ground up. Hopefully this time, it wouldn't need to involve a troll.

Hermione set her expression before opening the door that Harry and Ron were behind. It would be hard not to show how much she cared, especially given that she'd not seen them in thirty years, from her perspective. Carefully written letters coming from their friend moved to America just wasn't the same. She took a deep breath, and let herself in.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Ron asked right off the bat.

Hermione forced herself not to smile, rather casting him a disapproving gaze not unlike Minerva's. "An adult deserving of more respect than that," she said sternly. "And yourself."

"Ron Weasley," he replied sheepishly.

"Harry Potter," the other boy offered, looking miserable. "If you're looking for Madam Pomfrey, she had to go tend to Professor Lupin. She said she'd be back in half an hour."

"I am Professor Slytherin. As it happens, Mr. Potter," Hermione said. "I'm looking for yourself. The Headmaster has asked that you assist me with something."

"Slytherin?" Ron gaped. "As in Slytherin House?"

"Salazar Slytherin was a relation of mine, yes, Mr. Weasley," Hermione answered carefully. "If at all possible, she didn't want to have to lie to the boys. What she said was true - she'd been related to him by marriage, though they'd assume and reasonably so that she meant she was a descendant."

"What do you teach?" Harry asked. "Not to be rude, ma'am, but I've never seen you here before."

"I do not teach anything at the present, though in September I will be taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts post," Hermione answered. "Now that's enough questions. I'm afraid our task is rather time sensitive."

"I'll be back to check on you later, mate," Harry offered Ron, before following Hermione out of the Hospital Wing. Once they were down the hall a few paces, Harry dared ask a question. "So, what are we doing, Professor?"

"Before I tell you that, Mr. Potter, I need your oath that what we do and what I tell you will be kept between you and I," Hermione said, coming to a halt and turning to face him. "Your godfather's life depends on it."

Harry didn't even hesitate. "You have my word!" he promised.

Oh, she remembered blind faith… vaguely. Hermione offered him a small smile. Salazar had more or less beaten that concept out of her. " _Use your head! Assume people have their own motivations! THINK, Hermione! You are smarter than blind faith!"_

Only a month gone, but how she missed him so. He had been her rock, all those years. Rowena had been her soul. Helga and Godric were both wonderful in their own ways, and she'd treasured those friendships, but it had been Rowena and Salazar that had kept her sane for all those years.

Hermione pulled herself away from her memories as they entered an empty classroom, and grasped the chain hanging on her neck, nonverbally lengthening it so that it would comfortably fit around both she and Harry's necks. "This is a timeturner," she said, slipping the chain around him. "You and I will be going back in time to prevent Mr. Black from ever being put into that cell. We can't get to him in the dungeons. I believe Professor Snape is _personally_ guarding him."

Harry, as usual, took it all in stride. "So we go back in time, and help him get away before they catch him. What about Pettigrew?"

"Is there ever a time when no one was watching him?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"Not until he escaped," Harry admitted with a frown.

"Then I'm afraid we will have to settling for saving Sirius, and worry about clearing his name another day," she said sadly. "It is vital, when going back in time, that you are not seen by yourself. Absolutely vital."

"Alright," Harry grumbled. "I'll get him though, one day."

"I'm sure you will, Mr. Potter," Hermione agreed, knowing how obsessive Harry could be and how dreadfully always his unhealthy behavior proved fruitful. Sweet Merlin did that boy need a parental figure in his life. She sort of resented Remus for leaving Harry in the lurch here, but she also knew it couldn't be helped. Especially not after what had happened tonight. If he could not be trusted to take his potion when needed, he could not be trusted around so many children. It was unethical, and when not desperate for someone to fill the post, even Albus would agree to that.

Hermione took a breath and started turning the dials after consulting Harry on what time, round about, he thought Sirius would be most easily accessed. She'd given him a brief rundown on the ins and outs of basic time traveling before Harry presented an option. They and they alone had been by the lake when the Dementor's started closing in. He'd lost consciousness, but not before seeing a Patronus, maybe even two of them, charging to their rescue. Harry speculated that given how effect could precede cause in temporal mechanics, that Patronus might have come from one of them, or even both of them. Harry hadn't managed to master his fully yet, but it was enough to be a help at least, and Hermione confirmed that she'd long since mastered that spell. "Wand at the ready, Mr. Potter," she whispered, pulling her own out of her robes as she let go of the dials.

 _Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

They arrived to when they were to be, and Hermione motioned for Harry to follow her. She cast notice me not charms on both of them as they made a dash for the lake. It got colder the closer they got, and the other Harry and Sirius were still on the other side of the lake. They'd have to take care of the dementors before they could even see of Sirius was alive.

Hermione worried they'd cut it too close. Harry seemed to have the same concern, because there was more than a little desperation in his voice what he pointed his wand and shouted:

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

* * *

 **And... Cliffy! PLEASE REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4

**One reviewer pointed out the absence of Buckbeak in the last chapter, and I'm sure they weren't the only one to notice. I chose to exclude Buckbeak because this is a fic about Hermione and Minerva, neither of which have any interaction with Buckbeak after Prisoner of Azkaban. Buckbeak was a means to help Sirius escape in the book, and this fic is A/U post third year, so anything goes, you know. Without further delay, enjoy!**

* * *

Hermione hesitated to cast her own Patronus. The memories she'd need to access to even form a corporeal Patronus were locked behind Occlumency shields, placed there to protect her from anyone who might invade her mind and learn the truth of her identity. That said, Hermione was not fool enough to realize that in doing that, she'd also cut herself off from the emotional attachment to Sal, Rowena, Godric, and Helga. She hadn't allowed herself to mourn them in the slightest, though logically she knew that they were all long dead. She had no idea how to reconcile that, especially while remaining in the school that had been their shared home for over thirty years.

Hermione watched as Harry's stag began to flicker under the strain of the battle it was waging. With a muttered curse, she lowered her Occlumency shields and began sifting through the memories, trying to find one that would be strong enough to repel this mass of pain and fear.

* * *

 _Hermione crashed into a man she did not recognize._

" _A little young for you, don't you think?" she heard a woman ask._

" _For now," the man replied with a grin, helping her to her feet. "I'm Godric. This is Helga, Rowena, and that tosser is Salazar."_

 _Glee didn't even begin to describe the feeling welling up in her chest as Hermione realized who these people were. The Founders! And then… and then she realized what it meant, when and where she had gone, and how very much in trouble she was._

 _She would have graduated Hogwarts - her Hogwarts - today. The thought saddened her._

" _What's wrong, Hermione?"_

 _Salazar's voice was unusually soft. While he'd been in agreement to take her in, over the last four years he'd remained at a distance. Not cold, but certainly not warm and welcoming like the others. She supposed it was because she'd refused to lie about being muggleborn, but the rejection from him still stung. It didn't help that she found him unbelievably attractive._

" _Why don't you like me?" she asked, ignoring the question._

 _Salazar laughed. "My dear, I like you just fine. More than that, actually. You've grown into an intelligent and beautiful young woman. Any man would be lucky to have you. Or any woman, if that's your preference."_

" _What about you?" she asked before her mind took control of her mouth. "Would you… have me?"_

 _Salazar's fingers ghosted over her cheek, and she let out a soft sigh. "I'd have you right here, right now, if it pleased you," he whispered._

* * *

" _Hermione, love!"_

 _Hermione turned to see Rowena coming into her room, and was greeted with a languorous kiss before explaining to her younger lover what she had come for. "Of the four-hundred wizarding families we sent invitations to, all but twenty nine of them have agreed to send their children to Hogwarts for schooling, full time! When should the term begin?"_

" _September the first," she replied without much thought, and Rowena just smiled at her and then got up and started dancing around the room, completely over the moon at the high enrollment for Hogwarts' first official school year. Over the last so many years, a few families had sent their children for a couple months at a time to help hone their skills, but that had been more tutoring, not teaching._

 _The twenty one year old suddenly realized something that any intellect would be envious of. Hermione realized she was making history, in this moment. For as long as Hogwarts had remained open, the term began on September the first. That had been her decision. Hers. It was a small impact, she supposed, but every child in the wizarding world knew what happened on that day of the year, and that wasn't nothing._

 _She got up and danced with Rowena._

* * *

 _Hermione sat sniffling in an empty classroom, frustrated over the flock of letters that come in just after start of term, demanding her dismissal. Pureblood society was unhappy with an unwed muggleborn woman teaching at Hogwarts. It didn't matter if Helga and Rowena were unwed - they were purebloods._

 _The door opened and Hermione rushed to wipe the tears from her face, pausing when she saw it was Rowena, followed by Salazar. They'd seen her cry more than once, and they knew what she was upset about._

" _Hermione, we've got an idea," Rowena said softly, sitting beside the younger woman and pulling her close._

" _Well, she's got an idea," Salazar chuckled. "And I've long since given up arguing with her. Besides, it's a solid plan, and you know me - I love a good plan."_

" _What's the idea?" Hermione asked, still sniffling._

 _Salazar kneeled on the ground in front of her. "Hermione, I know that it's your intention to one day leave us and go back to your propor time, but we all know that it could be years before we manage that. I know that you refuse to get emotionally attached because of this, but that doesn't change the bond between the three of us. When you go, we'll mourn you and you'll mourn us, same as if our lives had been cut short. Life and love, are risks, and what I want to ask is this - will you take that risk with Rowena and I? Will you marry me?"_

 _Hermione might have thought he was joking if not for the fact that the man rarely joked and he was, in fact, holding a gorgeous ring out for her to see. While it would technically be Salazar she'd be marrying, with him came Rowena, and as a symbol of that, the ring was silver with a diamond in the center, two sapphires on either side of it, and two emeralds on either side of them. It was a symbol of the two of them wanting to have and hold her for as long as time allowed them._

" _Yes," she whispered. Tears still fell from her eyes, but for an entirely different reason. While she knew she could never fall_ in love _with either of these wonderful people, she did love them deeply. That was enough. "Yes," she said again._

* * *

Hermione's eyes opened, mind fixed on that moment as she quickly cast her spell, a great cobra springing from her wand, and to her surprise, being followed by a large raven with wings spread and looming toward the Dementors. Good timing, too, as Harry's own spells fizzled out completely a moment later. "Harry!" she called out, forgetting herself. "Stand close to me!"

Harry scrambled away from the edge of the lake and took shelter against her rippling robes. A few more seconds passed, and the dementors finally gave up and dispersed into the evening air. As soon as the chill of their presence began to wane, Hermione ushered Harry to follow as they ran around the lake to where Sirius was. "I haven't got any idea how long till they find me and bring me to the hospital. By this point, I'm out cold."

"Good," Hermione said. "That will give us at least a few minutes to get Sirius out, though we'll have to disillusion your unconscious self so that Sirius doesn't see two of you.

"Alright then, let's go," Harry agreed.

The two made their way to Sirius, and after disillusioning the other Harry, she cast a series of healing charms on the other unconscious man. Sirius came to a moment later, looking oddly at the woman peering down on him. "Who are you?" he asked groggily.

"A friend," she said softly. "Mr. Potter and I are here to ensure that you are not captured and turned over to the Dementors."

"Where can I hide?" the ragged man asked tiredly. "I haven't the strength to get all the way to Hogsmeade."

Hermione thought for a moment. "The Room of Requirement should protect you for the short term, and once you've regained your strength we'll discuss a more permanent solution."

"The _what_?" Harry and Sirius both asked.

Hermione smiled, remembering how she and Helga had worked for months on that particular enchantment within Hogwarts. "Honestly Sirius, I'm surprised you don't already know. According to Minerva, you and your friends learned a good many of the secrets of Hogwarts during your time as a student."

"Not enough of them, apparently," he said wryly.

The conversation ended as they heard rushed footsteps coming their way. "We've got to move," Hermione said suddenly.

She and Harry supported Sirius on either side, and after twenty minutes of struggle, they'd managed to get back inside the school without detection, and up to the third floor. Handing Sirius off to Harry's care, Hermione began pacing in front of a familiar stretch of wall. "I need a place to hide Sirius Black," she muttered, concentrating. "I need a place to hide Sirius Black."

A door formed on the previously empty wall, eliciting gasps from her two companions. She opened the door. She ushered Harry and Sirius inside, and the three took in their surroundings. It appeared to be something like one of the staff quarters, with a bedroom, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and a general living area with a roaring fireplace.

"This is nice," Sirius said, "but won't anyone be able to find it?"

"That's the beauty of the Room of Requirement," Hermione replied. "Even if someone else, who knows about the Room, came here, they would have to be wanting to find the hiding place of Sirius Black. The chance of one of the Aurors searching the castle for you knowing about this place are slim, and you'll only be here for a few days. The Room cannot provide food, so later on I'll sneak down to the kitchens and bring some up for you. Meanwhile…" she dug into her robe pocket and pulled out a large chocolate bar. "Eat this."

She offered another chocolate bar to Harry and ordered him to do the same, which he did without question.

"Who _are_ you?" Sirius asked incredulously.

Harry grinned. "Professor Slytherin," he answered for her. "She's teaching Defence next year. Isn't she great?"

Sirius visibly balked at the name _Slytherin_ , but grateful for the rescue, he didn't comment. "I guess I'll see you later, then."

Hermione nodded. "I know you're exhausted and there's a very comfortable bed in the adjoining room - something you've not had in a long time - but eat the chocolate before you sleep. I'll bring some potions when I come back to help you in your recovery. You're severely malnourished."

"They didn't exactly feed us well in Azkaban," he said ruefully.

"I know," she replied. "Mr. Potter, I'll be just outside. Say your farewells and then join me. I'll escort you back to the Hospital Wing. You're in need of some care yourself at this point."

"Yes, Professor," he said respectfully.

He joined her a few minutes later, and she took him back to where they'd begun with a little time to spare. After that, she went to the dungeons, stopping first at Severus' Potions' storeroom and stealing a few items, and then making her way to the kitchens, gathering enough food to feed Sirius for a week, though she expected to have him moved within a few days. The sooner, the safer for him.

As she navigated her way through the castle, she was stuck with how raw she felt as her thoughts drifted back to the memories of Salazar and Rowena in particular. She removed the charm concealing her wedding band, and tears began to fall as she looked at it. She'd worn that band every day for over twenty years, and while she's not fallen in love with her husband or their lover, it still meant something. More than just something. It represented a life lived, and how utterly over it was now.

How the hell was she supposed to move on from a _life_?

Unconsciously, she made her way to Minerva's quarters and knocked on the door.

"Hermione?" Minerva greeted softly, taking note of her disheveled appearance and the expression on her face that made it clear she'd been crying, and would be crying some more. "Oh, Hermione, what's wrong?"

"They're gone," she choked out. "They're really... gone."

Sobs erupted and Minerva pulled her inside, holding tightly as she closed the door, and the entire way to the sofa. She didn't let go as Hermione cried, and she didn't let go when Hermione passed out in her arms. The slept the entire night, together on that sofa, and for the first time since she'd come back, Hermione woke up feeling safe.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

**As one of my reviewers said - "My muse is on fire!" Enjoy the next installment... I'm off to write chapter 6.**

* * *

Minerva woke up with Hermione's body cradled in the crook of her arm. She was resting easily against the high back of her sofa, surprisingly free of a stiff neck. Hermione stirred, and Minerva allowed her a few minutes to finish coming around. "Good morning, my dear," she whispered.

"Morning," Hermione replied, stretching as she sat up. "Before anything else, Minerva, I apologize for just showing up like I did last night.

The older woman offered a soft smile. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Hermione. I'm glad you felt you could trust me enough to come here."

"Of course I trust you!" Hermione said, almost indignant. "I trusted you before and you didn't exactly have much time to change during the thirty years I was gone. There is absolutely no reason not to trust you."

Minerva chuckled. "Well, that out of the way, how's about you tell me what in Merlin's name happened last night to get you in such a state?"

She listened as Hermione filled her in about Albus' request, her short adventure with Harry, and the dementors at the lake. "I couldn't cast a Patronus without accessing memories from then, being with Salazar and the others, and till last night I'd used Occlumency to keep them in the back of my mind. I hadn't the time to mourn them when I first arrived, and then I settled in and they were just there… I should have dealt with this weeks ago."

"It's never easy to face grief," Minerva said kindly. "And this situation is unique. There's not really a handbook for how to grieve someone you last saw alive with plenty of life ahead, only to moments later know that they are dead. Not just one person, either. You were obviously closer to Salazar and Rowena than the other two, but I'm sure you cared for Helga and Godric as well. You'll have to find a way to reconcile all of that."

"Obviously."

"I've got a staff meeting just after lunch, but otherwise I'm free today if you need me," Minerva offered. "Tomorrow I'm chaperoning the Hogsmeade trip, unless Albus opts to cancel, per Sirius Black still being on the loose."

"Oh, shit, Sirius!" Hermione suddenly yelped, jumping up.

Minerva raised her eyebrow. "What about him?"

"I hid him in the Room of Requirement after we rescued him at the lake," Hermione explained. "I gave him some chocolate to help with the effects of the Dementors, but I told him I'd bring food and some potions last night and then I broke down…"

"Ahhh," Minerva replied. "Well how about we freshen up and head down together. Mr. Black was one of the most gifted Transfiguration students I've ever taught. It will be good to see him again."

"I was thinking," Hermione said, offering a hand to help Minerva up off of the sunken in, well worn sofa. "I need to provide Sirius with a safehouse, and I need one myself. Rather than create two, wouldn't it make sense to share a safehouse with him? I'd have to tell him the truth of who I am, of course. Do you think he can be trusted?"

Minerva nodded. "That does make sense, and yes, I believe he can be trusted with your secret. He's never outed Remus, after all. He knows how to see the consequence of breaking someone's confidence."

That said, the pair took turns in the washroom and then gathered the items Hermione had procured the night before, and headed down to the Room of Requirement. It was still early enough that the corridors were mostly deserted, though anyone they did encounter passed by bleary-eyed, obviously students who were regretting making early morning plans on a Saturday. They made it to the third floor unhindered, and entered the secret room without being observed.

"Professor Slytherin," Sirius greeted happily. Then he saw Minerva, and his smile faded, replaced with worry. "Professor McGonagall," he greeted in little more than a whisper.

Minerva understood his fear, especially given her default stern expression that was present on her face. She offered a small smile, and opened her arms. "Sirius," she greeted.

In the space a moment, the man turned into a boy, and crossed the space between he and his former mentor rapidly, taking comfort in her warm embrace. "I'm so sorry, Professor," he choked out. "Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," she told him. There might be things he'd need to make up for, but now was not the time to tell him that. Now, he needed to be assured that somehow, someday, things would be okay.

They stood like that for another minute before Sirius pulled away, collecting himself and turning his attention back to Hermione. "Thank _you_ , he said. "I know I'm a far cry from a cleared name, but not being shoved back in Azkaban, or worse… I'm in your debt. That gentlemanly thing out of the way… did you bring me food?"

The two women laughed, and Hermione handed him a sack with food, and then another smaller bag with a stock of potions he could use to speed his journey back to full health. "There's more chocolate in there as well," Hermione advised. "In case you're still feeling the effect from the Dementors. If not, well, hey - chocolate!"

Sirius laughed. "So, Professor _Slytherin_. What is your story? Where did you come from and why on earth did you save me? Not to sound ungrateful, but with a name like that I'm honestly a bit worried I've collected an 'I owe you' for someone with an ulterior motive."

Minerva eyed Hermione for signs of having taken offence, but saw none. She was well aware of what prejudices came with the name she'd chosen to keep, and was not bothered by it.

"My husband might have had a motive for saving you," Hermione said. "Alas, rest assured, I am a Gryffindor, just like yourself. I helped you because I learned you were innocent, and it was the right thing to do."

"I thought the Slytherin line died out years ago," Sirius mused. "Who's your husband?"

Hermione took a breath. "I was born in 1979, and for three years, your godson Harry was one of my best friends. At the beginning of this school year, I was given a time turner by Minerva, so that I could take all of the classes I wanted to take. At the end of May, I made mistake which threw me back in time not the hour I was wanting, but more than ten centuries. I lived in the past for thirty years before I found a way to come home, during which time I was married to the one and only Salazar Slytherin."

Sirius stared. Then he stared some more, leaning in to look more closely at her eyes. "Holy mother of… you're Hermione Granger."

She nodded. "I am. Or at least, I was. I lived a lifetime with the people you call _the Founders_. I took part in the building of this school. I was the charms Mistress for eighteen years. I had…"

Minerva frowned as Hermione's voice trailed off, obviously thinking better of what she'd been about to say. The older woman resolved to ask Hermione about it later, since she obviously was not inclined to share it with Sirius.

"I'm not the girl who was Harry Potter's friend," the brunette sighed. "Though I'll admit that my saving you had a lot to do with how much he needs you, Sirius. You're Harry's godfather, and legally, if we can get your name cleared, you could usurp the guardianship his Aunt and Uncle currently have."

"Would he even want that?" Sirius asked. "I mean, of course I'd love to have him, but I'm sure he's settled with Lily's sister and her family. I wouldn't want to take him away if he's happy there already."

Hermione laughed outright, earning equal looks of confusion from both Sirius and Minerva.

"I don't understand," Minerva stated crisply, not liking how Hermione found is so very ridiculous a notion that Harry would be displeased to be removed from the Dursleys care.

The younger witch huffed. "As a fourteen year old, I felt being loyal to Harry, who expressed a desire for me not to interfere, was more important than his well being. Well I'm not bloody fourteen anymore! Harry is beaten and starved by his guardians. Until he was eleven, he was locked in a small cupboard, under the stairs, when he wasn't being forced to work for them. Cooking, cleaning, gardening… anything and everything. He did it all. After he came to Hogwarts the Dursleys worried they were being watched by the Wizarding World, so they gave him an actual room, though that room has bars on the window, locks on the outside of the door, and a cat-flap cut into the door which they often shove scraps of food through when he's been _bad_ , and is locked in his room for days, if not weeks at a time. Most House Elves are treated better than Harry is by those loathsome people!"

Minerva was furious, and Sirius' expression mirrored their own. Child abuse was so very rare in the wizarding world - children represented the continuation of a line, and they were cared for and loved. Even the worst of witches would do _anything_ to defend her child. Even the worst of wizards would cut off their own hand before striking their heir. Neglect on this scale was nearly unheard of in their society.

It was this, she admitted to herself, that often left them blind to muggleborn, or muggle-raised children in situations not unlike Harry's. Minerva cringed when she remembered finding out, years after he'd begun teaching, how horrifying Severus Snape's childhood had been. When he was a student, she'd looked down on him for his antisocial behavior, but in retrospect, she should have looked past his actions and tried to see his reasons. She was ashamed of the fact that she knew had he been a Gryffindor, she would have. She had done it, in fact, with Sirius.

While not abused in the typical sense, Sirius had been a lion in a family of snakes, and was often bullied for it. His family pressured him constantly to adhere to their pureblood ideology. Minerva had seen the decline in his grades and the increase of his foul attitude, and taken action. She'd spoken to the Potters, their son James being Sirius' closest friend, and they'd agreed that if Sirius wanted out, they would take him in. Sirius had taken all of two seconds to agree to empty his valuables from Grimmauld Place and take up the spare room at his best friend's house.

"We need to get Harry out of there," Minerva whispered.

"Agreed," Sirius said. "And if we can't clear my name quickly, we need to consider an alternative. I know, being the Boy-Who-Lived, he can't just go with anyone, but their has to be another option.

Hermione rubbed her temples, and Minerva watched her warily. She'd seen that look before - before Hermione's trip to the past - and it always meant that she was about to suggest something positively mad. "I'm just going to say that I would not be suggesting this option if I didn't love Harry very, very much, but Sirius - how about we get married? Despite you being a convicted criminal, I'd be Harry's Godmother by extension of you, and thereby could claim guardianship. We could claim that we were married just before James and Lily died and you went to Azkaban. It would also help explain why I've been absent from the wizarding world for so long."

Minerva frowned, jealousy roaring up, but despite it finding no fault in Hermione's plan. In fact, it was a rather brilliant idea that would get Harry out of the Dursleys care at once.

"Aren't I a little young for you?" Sirius asked wryly.

Hermione laughed. "Bloody hell, you're Godric all over again!"

Sirius grinned widely at being compared to his favorite Founder. "I assume you're talking about a marriage for legal leeway only, kinda like someone getting hitched for a greencard? You have no actual intention of taking me to bed? Fun as that would be…" he added, eyeing her wonderful curves.

Minerva resisted the urge to hex him.

"Let me put it to you this way," Hermione said. "Godric and I saw each other like brother and sister. You remind me of Godric. I would never be the sort to shag my brother, so…"

"Got it. Friendzoning successful," Sirius laughed. "Well then, how do we get hitched without me getting arrested."

Despite not liking this plan in the slightest for reasons of the personal nature, Minerva had a solution and decided to present it before Hermione started finding her unhelpful attitude suspicious. "At this point, the only people who know both your secrets and Hermione's are myself, you two obviously, and Albus. The Headmaster can officiate a marriage. One of the many titles he possesses…"

"Well, I suppose you and I ought to go talk to _Reverend_ Dumbledore then," Hermione chuckled. "Sirius, we'll be back later on. Enjoy the food. And for the love of Merlin take advantage of the shower and the wardrobe that I've just asked the Room of Requirement to provide for you. I'm not marrying a man who smells like arse and is wearing more tattered clothing than a House Elf."

"I'm wounded!" Sirius said in mock offence. Then, he chuckled. "Yeah, I was going to ask you about that before you left. I was going to take a shower last night but the bathroom only had a john and a sink. Tried to get the Room to make a bath, not to mention some clean clothes, but any request I made just resulted in the lights blinking for a couple of minutes."

"The Room never worked for Godric either. Not sure why, to be honest," Hermione admitted. "Helga and I never did work out the problem."

Sirius grinned. "I'm still adjusting to the fact that you _knew_ them. And had _sex_ with Salazar bloody Slytherin."

Hermione grinned wickedly at him. "I had sex with Rowena, as well."

The look on Sirius' face was priceless. Minerva made a mental note to put the memory of it into her pensieve.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 6

**And, chapter six! Next chapter will shift back to Hermione's POV - I know the last two have been Minerva's. I just wanted to counter the two previous to that being from Hermione's POV, per needing more room for the rescue of Sirius sequence. From this point forward, it should bounce back and forth, every other. Also, just a mental note, I know there's not been much in the way of Hermione and Minerva interaction, but I've been trying to paint a more solid background of who Hermione has grown into and why before trying to bring Minerva into the mix. If I wasn't doing this, I fear that in later chapters you'll see Hermione as far too OOC, when in reality, she's a very different character than the Hermione I usually write about. Finally... this fic has taken a life of it's own. My goal is to see this story through the end of the book series. My outline shows me making it to the end of Goblet of Fire by chapter 27. Yeah. Tell me about it.**

* * *

After having a talk with Albus, who agreed to officiate the marriage of convenience, Minerva and Hermione attended the staff meeting together. Albus had insisted that it was entirely appropriate for the younger woman to do so, as Remus was still recovering from the fool moon and she'd already been hired to take the Defense Post starting in September. Following that, the two women returned to Minerva's quarters, at which point the Scottish woman finally got a chance to ask the question that had been bugging her for the last several hours.

"Hermione?" Minerva posed. "When we were talking to Sirius this morning, you acted like you were about to say something regarding your time with Salazar and the rest, but then you trailed off. Are you feeling more inclined to share, without him in the room? If not, I respect that…"

"It's fine," Hermione assured her. "Honestly I'd have been surprised if you didn't catch my slip, and I've now had several hours to mentally debate the pros and cons of telling you. I figured I'd tell you eventually, but I hadn't anticipated it coming up this soon. However, it did come up and I don't want to hide anything from you."

"So…" the other women prompted, nodding toward her sofa where they'd both slept the night before.

Hermione sank into the cushions with a sigh. "Do you remember at the beginning of this year when we discussed the Temporal Directives? How they're called Directives rather than laws because often times we impact the timeline unknowingly or against our own intentions? And that it's up to the Wizengamot to decide if the effect you had on the timeline was prosecutable or not?"

"Yes…" Minerva said suspiciously. She did not like where this appeared to be going.

"I violated a Temporal Directive," the younger woman admitted in a defeated tone. "More than one, if you're counting having a close personal relationship with the four most powerful and influential people of that age."

Minerva groaned. Yes, that was where she thought this was going. "What did you do?"

"Salazar and I had a child," Hermione whispered. "I left an eighteen year old daughter behind."

"Oh sweet Merlin." Minerva didn't know if the expression of dismay her tone implied was grief for what Hermione must be feeling to make such a choice, or horror at the prospect that Hermione had perpetuated the Slytherin line in a way it was never meant to have been perpetuated. Of course, temporal mechanics being what they were, the moment Hermione was born all of her future choices were taken into account and merged into the present, so as far as the entire world knew, whatever impact Hermione's daughter had on the timeline to the point of the present existed even before Hermione went back in time in the first place.

"Salazar, Rowena and I debated on if the pregnancy should be terminated or not for weeks," Hermione admitted. "It wasn't planned, and contraceptives didn't exist then. At fourteen, I hadn't really thought to look up the instructions for brewing one, so I couldn't even have just brewed from memory. I suppose I might have just worked to develop one, even if it was a crude version of what we have today, but I was timing my cycle and thought that would be enough. Obviously, I was wrong."

"I can imagine Salazar being keen on an heir for his line," Minerva mused. "Though if I were to guess, Rowena was probably more level-headed about it."

Hermione scoffed. "They were both all for the pregnancy from the moment I told them. I was the one _they_ had to convince that keeping the baby wouldn't bite the wizarding world in its arse one day. I'm still not entirely convinced, but there's nothing to be done for it now."

"Quite," Minerva agreed. "Would you… show her to me?" she asked tentatively. It wasn't just with idle curiosity that she made the request. Finding out about Hermione's child reminded her that she'd been meaning to suggest that sharing the memories of her time with the Founders might help start the grieving process. It was hard to let go of someone when you were the only one who remembered them. "I have a pensieve."

Hermione stared at her for a moment, and then nodded in agreement. Minerva levitated her Pensieve to the coffee table in front of them, and then the younger woman held her wand to her temple for a minute, until a long strand of blue mist began to wind around the tip, at which point Hermione pulled it out completely, and dumped it into the awaiting vessel.

"Shall we?" Hermione asked, offering her hand to Minerva. Fingers intertwined, and they leaned forward as one.

 _A little girl with dark curly hair and brown eyes peered intently at a small garden snake. "Hello," the girl addressed the creature. "My name's Lucy. What's yours?"_

"Because I understand Parseltongue, and it's my memory," Hermione whispered beside her. "You will as well."

Minerva nodded, and continued to watch as Lucy - about five by the looks of it - carried on a lengthy debate with the garden snake about why snakes were generally feared.

"I couldn't stop watching her," Hermione said, eying her younger self. "Lucy was so much like me, and I wondered if I'd have done something like that had I been born with the gift."

"At the least, you and Harry would have had another good reason to be friends," Minerva commented."

The scene shifted.

 _Lucy was older now, perhaps eight or nine. "It's not fair!" she said, stomping her foot in front of Salazar and Hermione. "I'm smarter than stupid Gawain Dumbledore and he's a second year! Why can't I start early? You and Aunt Rowena and Uncle Godric made up the rules just to be mean to me, I know it!"_

 _Salazar kneeled in front of his daughter. "Luce, my darling. The rules are there not to hinder you, but to protect you. Cleverness is a wonderful thing, but you still need to grow a bit more physically before your body can handle channeling magic through a wand."_

" _Who says?" Lucy demanded._

" _Madam Rowl, for one," Hermione replied softly. "Regardless sweetheart, don't you want to start Hogwarts with your peers? You wouldn't fit in with the other students if you start three years ahead."_

 _Lucy pondered that for a moment. "Can I at least have tutoring with Aunt Helga in Potions? That doesn't require a wand."_

 _Hermione and Salazar looked at each other, seemingly communicating telepathically. Finally, Salazar replied. "One lesson a month," he conceded._

" _Yes!" Lucy squealed, running off after hugging her parents each in turn._

" _Slytherin?" Salazar asked his wife._

" _In more ways than one," Hermione chuckled._

The scene shifted.

" _Happy Birthday, squirt!"_

" _Thanks Uncle Godric," Lucy said shyly._

" _It's not every day that a young lady turns eleven," Salazar said. "Finally, my sweet, in two short weeks you'll be starting Hogwarts."_

" _Will you be moving to the dorms, or staying with your parents?" a tall woman with dark brown hair and high, elegant cheekbones inquired._

"That's Rowena," Hermione whispered.

" _In either case, I won't be leaving the dungeons anytime soon," Lucy said, laughing. "Mother says I am to be in Slytherin House."_

" _You were born of the founder of Slytherin House," Rowena scoffed. "Personally, I think you've got the brains for my house, but obviously blood wins out here."_

" _I'm a Gryffindor," Hermione said pointedly._

 _Godric grinned._

" _Oh shut up, you," Hermione chastised the handsome, fair colored man. "Don't get a big head."_

" _His head is big by default," the other woman in the group commented: Helga Hufflepuff, Minerva presumed._

 _Gifts were given and young Lucy Slytherin opened each of them with care, taking time to thank each giver in turn before turned to the next gift. When the table cleared, Hermione took a seat beside her daughter and handed her one more present. It was a long, narrow box - perhaps a little over a foot in length, carefully wrapped in parchment._

" _Here you go, sweetheart," the younger version of Hermione said._

 _Lucy, just like with the others, unwrapped the gift carefully, though the squeal of delight when she finally opened the box caused all of the group except Hermione to cover their ears. Hermione herself was too busy being hugged tightly._

"By the time Lucy was born," Hermione of the present said, looking at Minerva, "It was clear then if and when I did find a way home, I would not be able to use the wand I'd gotten at Ollivander's, as it would give away my identity in a heartbeat. I decided to have my present wand made then, and set my first one aside for this very day."

"Ah," Minerva said. She'd been wondering what had become of Hermione's original wand over the course of the last couple of months. She had figured it had been broken. The idea that she'd passed it down to her daughter hadn't even crossed her mind.

" _It was mine when I was your age," Hermione told her daughter. "I trust it will serve you well."_

" _Thank you Mother," Lucy said solemnly, having finally gotten a hold of herself. "I'll make you proud, I swear!"_

 _Lucy continued to chatter with the other guests as Hermione and Salazar stepped a bit away. "When do we tell her?" the later asked seriously._

" _When we must," Hermione replied. "There's no need to make her feel abandoned before it actually happens. I know when we find a way, I'll have to go, but Merlin Sal, that knowledge is getting harder and harder to bare as the years pass by."_

The scene shifted.

 _Lucy, obviously a few years older than the last memory, stormed into Hermione's office with a look of utter fury on her face. "Is it true?!" she demanded._

 _Hermione looked up from the stack of homework she'd been grading, her eyes betraying her before her mouth could. "Lucy, how did you…"_

" _Find out that you're a bloody time traveler, come from the bloody future, and that you weren't even supposed to have me, and that as soon as you find a way back to your own time you're just going to up and bloody leave and and Father?" Lucy laid out._

 _Mother and daughter just stared at each other for a minute. "Lucy, how did you find out?"_

" _Eavesdropping on Uncle Godric and Aunt Rowena," the girl mumbled, obviously ashamed of her behavior despite her anger regarding what she'd learned._

 _Hermione frowned. "You weren't meant to learn about it like that. When the time was right, your father and I were going to sit down with you ourselves and tell you the truth."_

" _When was the time going to be right, Mother?" came a tear filled plea. "Right before you left? Would you have changed your mind and let Father tell me after you'd gone? Would you have bothered to say goodbye? Do you even love me? Am I nothing but a mistake to you?"_

 _Hermione was up from her seat and around the desk in a matter of seconds, pulling her daughter close. "Oh my sweet baby girl. Never, ever think those things. You are not a mistake. I love you so damn much I don't know how I'll manage to force myself to go when the time comes, but… oh Merlin child there are some things I can't tell you, but please, please believe me when I say that I do love you!"_

Minerva glanced over at the Hermione by her side, and saw the women openingly weeping with her counterpart and daughter. "I think that's enough for now," she said softly, taking Hermione's hand again.

Hermione nodded, and a moment later they were back on the sofa, a bowl of silver-blue mist still swirling in front of them. For a minute, they just sat there, silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Then, in a croak of a whisper, Hermione slowly leaned toward Minerva and said, "Hold me."

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	7. Chapter 7

**And another day has passed, and check this out, another update! I'm thrilled you guys are enjoying this. I'm having a blast writing it. My muse is utterly in love with this concept, and if we're all really lucky, it'll be a very long lasting love affair that will conclude with me actually being able to mark this story as complete. If I keep managing an update a day, it should only take me a couple of months to finish. Should, of course, being the key word there. I've still not finished plotting this sucker out.**

* * *

There was only a week left before term let out for the summer, and Hermione found herself in Albus' office along with Sirius Black, having just finished saying _I do_. Despite the intention for him not to remain at Hogwarts for more than a few days, Albus had believed that it would be wiser to wait till after they were wed to move him, so that they didn't have to move him twice and double the risk of him being captured between point A and point B.

Point B, as it were, was the three bedroom cottage in London which had been purchased under Minerva's name, and Secret Kept by Albus. It would be a good place for Sirius to hide out full time, and Hermione and Harry would join him during the summer months, as well as during some of the holidays. It also had a specially made Floo which only had one connection, through the Room of Requirement. The Room of Requirement was enough of a secret still that it was doubtful that anyone could try to head them off from getting there, should an emergency arise and Hermione or Harry, if not both of them, needed to leave the castle in haste.

"Hermione," Albus said, "Have you considered an alternative given name to use?"

The soon-to-be Defense Professor nodded to the Headmaster. "So Harry isn't given a clue as to who I really am?"

"Not to mention the Ministry," Albus added. "Or anyone else, for that matter. I know you intend to keep the Slytherin surname, so that covers that, but I think a new given name would also be prudent."

Hermione tended to agree, and by the nodding of both Minerva and Sirius, they did as well. "I'll use Amelia," she said after she gave it a minute's thought. "It's the same amount of syllables as my name, and sounds close enough it'll be easy for me to adapt to."

To her surprise, when she glanced over to Minerva, she saw the other woman's body language was unbelievably tense. Sirius didn't seem to care one way or another. Certain that her friend's reaction was not caused by something she wanted to share with the group, Hermione did not press. Whatever Minerva's objection was, she'd have to get over it, because Hermione had chosen the name for another reason as well, though not one _she_ was inclined to share with the group.

Amelia was Lucy's middle name, one she shared with her godmother, Rowena.

"Very well, my dear," Albus agreed. "I'll put that name on the paperwork for the Ministry, along with the fake date to indicate this marriage happened fourteen years ago. I'll claim to have misplaced the copy I should have sent to them when the marriage took place, but you would have been given a copy in any case, and that will be proof enough for the Child Services at the Ministry."

Hermione took the proffered parchment and looked at the other two people in the room. "Minerva, if you'd escort my _husband_ down to the Room of Requirement, he can head to the cottage at once. I'm going to the Ministry now, and when I return, I'll be talking to Harry."

The older witch nodded and moved to leave, and after offering his new _wife_ a cheeky smirk and a comment about the traditions of a wedding night - which Hermione hexed him for - Hermione left directly from the Headmaster's office for the Ministry. Just as Albus had said, Child Services didn't give her any problems, and two hours and a mound a paperwork later, Hermione had the key to the Potter Vault as a means to keep up with his care, and a single sheet of parchment giving her full legal custody of one Harold James Potter until such a time that he turns seventeen of age. She absently thought that Sirius would have to seriously prove himself more than an immature boy if he had any notion of gaining custody of Harry after they'd cleared his name.

True to her word, the first thing Hermione did upon returning to Hogwarts was to seek out her new ward. She was told by Neville that he could be found, as one would expect on a Friday evening, in the Gryffindor Common Room playing Wizard's Chess with Ron. Much like with the Headmaster's office, she made to usurp the Fat Lady's current password with the original one."Sister's House," she stated firmly.

"That password hasn't been used in a thousand years!"

"I know that, Nadine," Hermione said, addressing Godric's mother by name. The woman had welcomed her just as much as her son had, and when she'd died right after Lucy's second birthday, she and Godric had agreed there could be no better guardian for his House.

Nadine looked shocked at the use of her name, and the peered intently at woman she'd viewed as a stranger. "Sweet Mother of Merlin," the woman said, clutching her chest. "Hermione!"

"I go by Amelia Slytherin, here," Hermione whispered. "Though you knew me as Hermione Granger until what you perceive as a few months ago, when I was flung back in time. It took me thirty years to work out a way home. I know we never told you where I'd come from…"

"I understand why," Nadine assured her. "Obviously an explanation will have to wait till we can find some privacy…"

"I'll fill you in on everything, though it will have to wait till we return this fall," Hermione replied. "I'll be teaching Defence this coming term."

Nadine laughed. "All that dueling you and the others used to do, you certainly are qualified."

"Now, back to where we started," Hermione chuckled. "May I pass, Nadine?"

"Of course, my dear," the woman nodded, portrait swinging open easily.

Inside, just as Neville had suggested they would be, Harry and Ron were playing a game of Wizard's Chess. Ron seemed to be winning the match, though Harry's skills seemed to be steadily improving since she'd last seen them play. She herself had been dreadful at the game during her time as a student here, though it head markedly improved after Salazar and Rowena had finished with her. She was actually a bit curious how she'd fare against Ron now. Not, of course, that this was an appropriate time to ask him for a match.

"Mr. Potter," she called getting the boys' attention.

Harry and Ron looked up, Ron looking typically horrified to see a Professor, and Harry offering a wide grin. "Professor Slytherin!" he greeted.

"Amelia," she corrected softly, testing out her newly adopted name. "I'm not technically your Professor until September.

"Amelia," Harry recited dutifully, though it was obvious it was an awkward endeavor. "What brings you to the Gryffindor Common Room?"

"There's something I need to talk to you about, if Mr. Weasley can spare you," she replied. "Would you take a walk with me?"

"Of course," he agreed, rising to follow her.

"Oh, and Mr. Weasley?" Hermione said as an afterthought. "According to your Transfiguration Professor, you are a gifted chess player. I'd love a match with you sometime, if you don't mind being seen playing with a Professor."

Ron blushed. "Not at all, Professor," he said. "That would be great."

"We'll plan something," Hermione assured him. "Now, Harry, if you'll come with me…"

The bespectacled boy followed her out the portrait hole, much to cheerfully as far as Ron was concerned, or so said the expression on the redhead's face. Hermione waited until they'd exited the castle, and were walking in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch. Had they not so recently had an unpleasant adventure at the lake, she might have guided them there, but alternately Hermione knew that Harry would find peace in sight of the massive stands ahead.

"Harry, I had…ulterior motives regarding the rescue of Sirius a few weeks ago. Nothing sinister, but it's come to my attention that my… connection to your godfather may be of interest to you."

The words had been formed carefully, to avoid lying as much as possible. She _did_ have ulterior motive, technically she'd been acting on Albus' request, and considering how much he'd helped her in the last few months, she did sort of owe him. Harry's situation _had_ come to her attention, she hadn't needed to mention that he himself had told her. She did have a connection to Sirius - _they were married_ \- a fact she was about to tell Harry. Of course, Harry needn't know that they had only just married this morning.

"Oh?" Harry said, looking curious.

"Sirius is my husband," Hermione explained. "By extension of him, that legally makes me your godmother."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're my… you're my _godmother_?"

She nodded. "As I have come to understand it, you don't particularly enjoy living with your muggle relatives."

"What of it?" The fifteen year old asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

Hermione knew he didn't like to talk about them. Not that she blamed him. Rather than dwelling on that unpleasant subject, she pressed on and casually asked the big question. Granted, he really wasn't getting a choice in the matter, but it would do him good to think he had a say. It's not like she didn't already know his answer. "How would you like to come and live with Sirius and I?"

Harry's grin couldn't have gotten any wider. "When? For how long? Will Dumbledore allow it? I mean, the wards…"

"The Headmaster is already secret keeper for our home in London, yes he approves of a change in your living situation, directly after term…" Hermione mentally checked off his list of rapid fire questions, and found she'd missed just one. "... and I was kind of thinking until you come of age, or longer if you like. So, what do you say?"

Harry launched into her arms, and she sighed, inhaling in the scent of her once best friend and present ward. Merlin, how she missed him so; missed being in his day to day life. "Brilliant!" He choked out after a long hug. "Thank you."

The stood there, just holding each other for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione wasn't about to lie to herself about how selfish she was being in suggesting that she and Sirius marry, and that they take in Harry. It was gut wrenching to have a family one moment, and have nothing a moment later. While Sirius was not her lover, and Harry was not her child, it did parallel in a very basic way the life that she'd left behind.

Hermione thought about Lily Potter, a woman who had given up her life to protect her son, knowing that his life may very well be the key to bringing down Voldemort. In that essence, she'd not just given up her life for her child, but for the world - Wizard and Muggle alike. As a child, Hermione remembered thinking that Lily should have done something different that would have prevented Harry from growing up without either of his parents. Now, having given up her own family for the greater good, Hermione finally understood why Lily had chosen as she did. Love for a child is deep, and any good parent wants to be there for them for as long as they can. However, sometimes loving your child means leaving them in order to provide a future for the world they exist in. Sometimes, sadly, it did boiling down to the greater good.

In Hermione's own case, the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. The needs of the Wizarding world she'd been born to outweighed Godric and Helga's need for a friend, Salazar and Rowena's need for a lover, and even Lucy's need for a mother. Hermione hoped that someday, in the years between her mother leaving and her own death, Lucy had come to understand that.

* * *

 **So how are you guys liking some of the not so original characters in this story? The Founders? Nadine? Lucy? PLEASE REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Muse is still on fire! Enjoy!**

* * *

Minerva made a point to catch Harry Potter just after breakfast in the Great Hall. The students would be heading down to the train station in just a couple of hours, but Harry would not be going with them. As the saying went, he had 'better places to be'.

Hermione had intended to just bring Harry with her when she left, though after a firecall from a panicked Sirius, she'd had to go and attend to him at the cottage. It made no real sense for her to return to the castle, so she'd asked Minerva to escort Harry to his new home, promising to make fresh trout for supper, knowing it was the older woman's favorite meal. Of course, Hermione knew damn well Minerva wouldn't refuse to bring Harry in any case, though fish certainly sweetened the deal for the animagus.

"Mr. Potter," Minerva called.

The boy looked up, wearing an appropriate mask of apprehension, mirroring Ron Weasley's expression. "Yes, Professor?" He asked.

"Is Mr. Weasley aware of your plans for the summer?" she inquired, not wanting to share information with the boy's friend if he'd been withholding for some reason. Teenagers were so temperamental sometimes, and Minerva had long since given up trying to predict why they did some of the things that they did.

Harry visibly relaxed, now knowing what her approach was about. "Yes ma'am," he said to her. "Amelia even said he could come and stay for a weekend, if the Weasley's didn't mind."

Minerva cringed, really hating having to associate Hermione with _that_ name. Of all the bloody names Hermione might have chosen, why had it had to be _that one_? "Quite," Minerva said tensely. "Well that said, when Professor Snape calls for students to line up for the carriage ride to the station, please come to my office instead. He has, along with the rest of the faculty, been made aware of your change in guardianship, and that I will be escorting you home later this morning. He will not detain you."

"Thanks Professor," Harry said. "I'll see you then."

Just as planned, Harry arrived in her office, looking startled to see his Firebolt leaning against her desk, right next to her own Nimbus 2000. At the start of Harry's first year, when Minerva had needed to purchase him a broom to play Quidditch, it had crossed her mind that she was overdue for a new broom herself, so she'd just bought two when she'd gone to buy Harry's. Her Nimbus, however, had _not_ been smashed to splinters by the Whomping Willow.

"Professor?" he asked, eyeing the brooms.

"Your godmother did not want the general staff body made aware that there was a way to gain access to her cottage via a Floo here in the castle, so we must be seen actually leaving Hogwarts," Minerva explained. "Further, the wards she set up will not allow for apparation within a ten mile radius, and I have no desire to walk ten miles today. We will fly to southern border of Hogwarts' wards, from where I'll side-along apparate you to the point she suggested, and then we'll fly again for those last ten miles."

Harry looked confused. "I thought she said she lived in London. Wouldn't it have made sense for me to just take the train and have her meet me at King's Cross?"

The green-eyed witch resisted the urge to laugh, thinking about Hermione's reasons for this particular method of getting Harry home. "She actually lives outside of London, I'd say about twenty-five miles off. She does not own an automobile, and she herself is rather ill favored toward flying, so even if you had taken the train, I'd have still had to fly with you to Gerrards Cross. Besides, you'll get home much quicker this route. I expect we'll be there by two, perhaps three if we take our time. The train won't even make it to King's Cross till seven this evening."

The boy nodded, and smiled toward his broom. "This will be great," Harry said. "I promise not to get too far ahead."

Minerva huffed. "Mr. Potter, Quidditch is not the only sport one plays on brooms. After playing Quidditch, Chaser in case you wondered, for six of the seven years I was in school, I went on to race competitively for the following fourteen years. I do not believe I will be the one having to worry about keeping up."

The expression on Harry's face in that moment was pure adoration.

With a smirk, Minerva handed him a small bag with his shrunken belongings in it, which he shoved into his jacket pocket. They grabbed their respective brooms a moment later, and Harry started walking towards the door. Minerva, on the other hand, had another idea.

"Mr. Potter," she said. "Why would we walk down three floors when we have a perfectly good window to launch from?"

He shook his head disbelieving when she flicked her wand and vanished the glass in a large window and went to stand on the ledge, waiting for him to join her.

He looked at her skeptically. "Who are you, and what have you done with Professor McGonagall?"

She laughed. " _Professor_ McGonagall buggered off when the Headmaster called end of term fifteen minutes ago. "I am _Minerva_ McGonagall, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Harry."

He grinned, gripped his broom tightly, and ran right past her and leapt off the window ledge, landing safely on his broom and hovering in the air just outside. "Well then, _Minerva_ ," Harry teased. "You coming then?"

Not wanting to be outdone by a fifteen year old, Minerva transfigured her teaching robes into something a bit more comfortable for flying - a pair of muggle blue jeans and a comfortable cotton shirt, with a warm jacket over it. Then, she followed his lead and jumped out the window, non-verbally replacing the glass behind her. She allowed herself to freefall until she was mere feet from the ground, at which point she gripped her broom and swung around like a gymnast on the parallel bars, and then letting go, twisting her body around expertly, and landing on the broom as it began soaring back toward her companion. "Race you to Hogsmeade!" she shouted behind her.

Fifteen minutes later, Minerva landed on the ground just outside of the Three Broomsticks, Harry trailing only seconds behind her. "You're insane!" he accused, laughing.

"Quite," she agreed. "Your father and godfather may or may not have contributed to that."

After apparating them to a few miles outside of Gerrards Cross, the two remounted their brooms, taking an easy pace for the rest of the journey. They passed the time with Minerva sharing some stories of her memories of his parents at Hogwarts. She managed to avoid talking about Hermione much, not wanting to lie to the boy about a woman who supposedly attended school about the same time that James, Lily, and Sirius had.

When they finally arrived at the cottage, they were greeted by a disapproving frown on Hermione's face. "What took you two so long?" she demanded. "I was beginning to worry!"

Minerva cast a quick _tempus_ charm. It was nearly four. "My apologies," she said. "We took our time."

"Minerva was telling me about my parents," Harry informed his godmother. "I bet you could tell me loads more," he added.

"I'm afraid not, Harry," Hermione replied. "I was not the same year as your parents, and never had the opportunity to get to know them. I only met Sirius after they had died."

Minerva had to admire how Hermione had managed to deflect her lack of knowledge of the Potters whilst still not actually lying to Harry. She imagined that after all those years of being married to Salazar, a little bit of the Slytherin way of making use of half-truths had worn off on her. In any case, it was a skill that was coming in handy now. Hermione had more than once expression how she wanted to avoid lying to her ward when at all possible. One day, she did hope to tell him the truth of her identity, and didn't want him to resent her for however many untruths she'd spoken in the years between now and then.

"Oh, that's okay," he replied a bit sadly. "I guess between Minerva, Sirius, and Remus I'll hear enough stories."

"I'm sure you will," Hermione agreed. "Now, how about you go unpack - Sirius is inside and will show you to your room. Perhaps Minerva can help me finish up supper. We'll eat in about an hour."

"Okay, Amelia," he agreed, nodding once to Minerva, and giving Hermione a tight hug before walking in the door of the cottage.

The flinch of _that name_ couldn't be stopped, and Hermione took note. "Now, there it is again, Minerva," the younger witch said. "Are you planning to share why the name _Amelia_ bothers you so very much?"

Minerva sighed. "If I don't, you'll badger me, so I suppose I might as well."

Hermione ushered her inside and to the kitchen, and with a flick of her wand a setting for tea was on the table. "Out with it, then," she prompted once they'd each prepared their respective cups.

"Some years ago, I was involved with a woman named Amelia," she stated. "Amelia Bones."

"As in, Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Hermione asked, looking startled.

"The very same," the older woman replied. "Though back then, she was just _Amelia Bones, Rookie Auror_."

"So what happened?"

Minerva sighed. "At that point, being in a homosexual relationships was not conducive to furthering a political career. Pureblood society is heavily traditional, and those were days when it really was difficult to be anything less than Pureblood and hope for a career within the Ministry. As Amelia was a half-blood, she felt she already had one strike against her in her aspirations to eventually become Head of the Auror Department."

"I see."

"Obviously, her decision paid off in her favor, but I was very much in love with her, and it still smarts to think of how she chose her career over love… over me," Minerva concluded sadly. "I'm perceived by the wizarding world as a stuffy old witch who put career over family, but you see, by the time I'd gotten _mostly_ over Amelia - I wouldn't claim to be entirely over her even now - I was older and settled into teaching… I gave up on the notion of family. I was nearly fifty then… it seemed a bit late to be searching for love, marriage, and children."

They were quiet for a time, before Hermione rose and walked around the table, pulling Minerva up and into a tight hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "If I could backpedal now and chose another name, I would, but you understand that I can't…"

"I know," Minerva agreed. "Who knows, maybe this will help me finish getting over her. Though, I'm not sure the point anymore. I'm not likely to find love at my age."

Hermione laughed, kissing her softly on the cheek. "It's never too late to find love," she said. "Or at least, I hope not."

Just then, Harry and Sirius bounded down the stairs, and Minerva and Hermione pulled apart as the sounds of heavy footfalls got closer and closer. "Hey Minerva," Harry said. "Can Sirius borrow you're broom? We'd like to fly a bit before supper, if that's alright with you, Amelia."

"Of course," Minerva said. "It should be with yours by the front door."

"Just stay within the wards," Hermione consented. "Sirius should know where they are. After he breached them this morning whilst chasing a squirrel in his animagus form I made him spray paint the perimeter in yellow."

The older wizard blushed furiously. "It was an honest mistake, hun," he complained, looking at a laughing Harry for backup.

"Don't look at me!" Harry said, still chuckling. "She's _your_ wife! I'm not getting on her bad side. She'll be grading my exams next term!"

"You have the self-preservation of a Slytherin, Harry," Sirius pouted.

Harry stopped laughing at once. Minerva and Hermione started up as soon as he did.

"Come on, Sirius," Harry grumbled at his godfather. "Let's go see if you're half as good on a broom as Minerva."

The witch in question decided right then that she'd spend as much time here this summer as she could manage. She hadn't laughed this hard in years, and everyone knew how good laughter was for the soul.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I had a plan for this chapter. Something else entirely ended up happening. I hope you enjoy. Also, a shout out to one of the best friends I've ever had the pleasure of having: Happy Birthday Holli!**

* * *

Hermione rolled her eyes as, for the probably twentieth time since Harry had arrived, he and Sirius raced down the stairs and out the back door to go _play_ with the singular broom they had between themselves. Minerva had needed hers to get back out beyond the wards, and Hermione refused to buy Sirius a broom of his own. As much as she didn't begrudge Harry the chance at some fun during his summer holiday, she also knew that the boy needed to be forming some sort of trust with a responsible adult. Sirius may be technically an adult, but he had the mind of a child and she'd met more responsible dragons.

An idea began forming in her mind as to how she could being bonding with her ward using something she'd learned from Salazar. The question remained how to manage it, but Hermione was sure there was someone else in this house who would know. She walked up the stairs and to her office, approaching the portrait she'd had Albus send her once he'd dug it out of the Room of Requirement. "Nadine," she called, tapping on the painting.

Godric's mother appeared in the frame a moment later. "I'm glad you got Albus to give you my other portrait. I was not looking forward to several months before finding out exactly how you came to be in the here and now," she jested for at least the fourth time since her arrival. "What can I do for you, my dear?"

"I'd like to take Harry to see some dragons," Hermione explained.

Nadine nodded knowingly. "But you're wondering how to do so with any measure of privacy, not to mention the question of how to even get permission to enter one of the reserves?"

"Exactly."

"Well, Minerva can vouch for you to someone already in her corner - say Charlie Weasley, at the Romanian Preserve. That would take care of the privacy."

Hermione now recalled when she and Harry had met Ron's older brother. She'd completely forgotten about that sometime in the last thirty years. "What of the actual getting on the reserve. It usually takes months to get permission through the Ministry. I doubt Charlie has enough clout to get us in quicker at this point in his career."

"Agreed," Nadine replied. "That said, Cyrus Prince, the Head of the Romanian Reserve, could get you in straight away."

"I'm sure he could," Hermione agreed. "However, _why would he_?"

"Well…" the guardian of Gryffindor Tower said slowly, "There was this sort of fib that Godric, Salazar, Rowena, and Helga all perpetuated regarding your disappearance. They indicated to the general public that you were overseas and in possession of a Philosopher's Stone…"

"Oh they didn't…" Hermione groaned.

"...and instructed that the pureblood lines should pass down through the generations that should _Hermione Slytherin_ ever be in need of aid, they should give it without hesitation."

"This was Godric's idea, wasn't it?" the irritated witch growled.

"It was," Nadine admitted. "However it was also one of the rare cases in which Salazar actually agreed with it. They didn't want you to have to struggle too terribly when you got back here. They felt pureblood connections would help you along your way, and that the lie they'd spun would also help give you a cover about how you'd existed both then and now."

"I told them not to do anything like this!" Hermione practically screeched. "It violates the Temporal Directives!"

"So did Lucy's birth," the other woman replied. "And regardless, what's done is long done, and it makes absolutely no sense not to make use of the doors this opens for you."

"Why didn't you mention this in our previous conversations?" Hermione grumbled.

"Did you see how you just reacted?" Nadine asked, amused. "Do you honestly think I was in a hurry to watch your hair get frizzy? I was worried you'd singe my paint!"

Still rather annoyed that her husband, lover, and friends had ignored her request that they take no action to _help_ her in the future, Hermione let out a huff and began pacing the office, trying to think of another way just so she could prove to them and herself that they're assistance had not been needed. Alas, fifteen minutes later, she'd still come up with nothing, and so grudgingly turned back to Nadie. "Is there a bloody passphrase I need to know?" she asked.

"No, they passed along a memory of you - your appearance - via pensieve to all of the relevant families," the portrait assured her. "Just contact Cyrus, tell him your name, and he'll know it's you on sight."

"Nadine, pensieves didn't exist when I left," Hermione ground out.

"Well, Rowena _may_ have invented the pensieve just for this purpose," Nadine admitted in a whisper, backing away. "Oh, look at the time! I have to get back to Hogwarts!"

And with that, she was gone, leaving a fuming Hermione behind her. She looked upward. "I swear to Merlin, the minute I get to the afterlife I'm going to hex the lot of you idiots!" Hermione shouted.

The outburst was followed by another ten minutes of pacing, a good half hour cry over how much she bloody missed the aforementioned idiots, and then a quick trip to the washroom to freshen up. After that, she went downstairs and created an untraceable Portkey. Having been there when so many of the commonly used spells were being created had distinct advantages. She knew all that went into them, and thereby knew how to work around some of the more modern adhancements to a number of spells, Portkeys included.

"Boys!" She called out the back door.

"Yeah hun?" Sirius called, not stopping in his frolicking. He and Harry seemed to be dancing about like a couple of drunken fools. She did _not_ want to know what they were up to.

"Please come inside," she stated, as if her initial hail ought to have told them that already.

The ill conceived dancing attempt halted, and they both trotted her way. She waited till they were in the door before she spoke again. "We'll eat lunch, and then Harry and I will be going on an outing."

"Can't I come?" Sirius whined.

"No," she replied succinctly.

He sulked past, glancing at her woefully, and made for the kitchen, obviously deciding food would be a good way to drown his sorrows. She chuckled after the man. "Puppy dog eyes won't work on me, Black!"

"I know!" he moaned back at her. "I don't know what's wrong! They've never failed me before!"

"So," Harry said, looking at her warily. "Where are we going?"

"Romania," she replied. "A certain friend of yours mentioned an adventure with a Dragon called Norbert. I thought you might like to go visit him. The dragon, I mean."

While she was actually referring to herself as the _friend_ , Harry went with the more obvious conclusion and assumed that Hogwarts' Gamekeeper was the friend in question. "Yeah," Harry said, eyes bright. "I can see Hagrid back at Hogwarts!"

An hour later, she and Harry arrived at the looming gate of the Romanian Dragon Preserve. The gate itself was nothing more than a way to mark the perimeter of the wards - no wall or gate constructed would be high enough to contain a dragon. The fact that there was a gate and a wall had more to do with keeping humans - both muggle and magical - out of the preserve in an effort to protect the dragons within.

"Announce yourself!" came a male voice overhead, in a small guard tower about five yards off the ground.

"I will announce myself to Mr. Prince," she said in as snotty a voice as she could manage. "No other."

The wizard offered a pointed glare, but meeting her stern gaze, he seemed to think better of the telling off he'd been preparing to give. Hermione radiated power. She knew it, and the guard took quick notice. "I'll be right back with him," he replied.

A few minutes passed, Hermione saying nothing about the look of wonder in Harry's eye. She was still surprising him with her mere presence, which is probably why he'd not opened up to her at all. He was a teenage boy who seemed to idolize her, and she was not wanting that sort of relationship with Harry. He needed to trust her - not blindly as he did Albus, but because of an actual relationship and love between them. If he was to survive the coming war, Harry needed to learn to think about who he gave his trust to, not just offer it in advance of potentially inevitable betrayal. Trust needed to be earned, and Hermione hoped this outing would be a step in the right direction.

The gate opened, and an elderly gentleman stepped out, looking rather annoyed at being called away from what else he'd been doing to answer the call of a strange witch who had no appointment to see him. Then, he eyed her, and stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape. "By the gods," he whispered. "Madam Slytherin."

Hermione offered a single bow of her head. "Mr. Prince. I'm glad to see my husband's request has not been forgotten by your family."

"Of course not," he replied, giving a low bow. "It's an honor, and absolute _honor_ to meet you. And who is this young man, if I may be so bold to ask?"

"Harry Potter, my ward," she replied. "Harry, this is Cyrus Prince. He is the Administrator of the Romanian Dragon Reserve."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Harry replied dutifully.

"Mr. Prince, if you please, might we talk privately?" Hermione requested, not wanting to risk Cyrus saying something - her first name for example - that might give Harry evidence to suggest that she and his own Hermione Granger were one in the same. "If it's alright with you, perhaps Handler Weasley could mind Harry while we speak? His younger brother is a Housemate of Harry's at Hogwarts."

"Of course, of course!" Cyrus agreed readily.

Hermione assumed the man was a Slytherin - the Prince's were nearly as old a family as Salazar, Rowena, Helga, and Godric's families were, and in the years she'd taught at Hogwarts, she'd sorted no less than fifteen of them, all to Slytherin House. That said, she did not want to risk him knowing that Harry was any more than an acquaintance to the Weasley family, less he use that information any time in the future. All Slytherins were apt to file seemingly meaningless information away for Merlin knew what later date or cause.

After a fifteen minute chat with Cyrus about the importance of keeping _who_ she was to himself - not that he even knew the full truth of that - she felt able to count on the man's support in the future, and so congratulated herself on a job well done in both doing something for Harry and forging a connection in Pureblood society. She made a mental note to start making connections with some of the other still existing lines. She grumbled unhappily when she realized one of those families were going to be the Malfoy's. While not quite old enough of a family to have been given the memory of her identity directly, the Malfoy's were probably a shoot off of the La Foy family, who had been very prominent in Pureblood society during that era. She'd have to get her hands on some genealogy books and start researching.

Hermione found Harry and Charlie just where she'd expected - visiting Norbert. She offered the Weasley boy a polite nod, indicating he was free to return to his duties, and he nodded back and wished Harry a good day before walking off. Hermione walked right past her ward and through the wards set to keep the Welsh Green a safe distance from humans, holding her hand out and hissing a greeting in Parseltongue.

"WE CAN TALK TO DRAGONS?!" Harry exclaimed, utter glee in his voice.

Hermione turned and smirked at him. "As a matter of fact, we can."

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I promise I have not lost momentum on this story. Had two counts of family drama to deal with in the last two days. That mostly sorted, back to work on Telling Time. Enjoy!**

* * *

Minerva wasn't quite sure what to make of the happenings in the kitchen of Hermione's cottage when she arrived back, two and a half weeks after dropping Harry off. Hermione and her ward were hissing back and forth to each other, and Sirius was sitting the table with a pronounced scowl on his face. "What's going on?" she whispered to him, the other two having not noticed her arrival just yet.

"They're being a pair of tossers is what's going bloody on!" he said loudly.

"Minerva!" Harry said cheerfully.

"Hello, Min," Hermione greeted with a smile.

"I ask again," she said, hugging the younger witch and the bespectacled boy each in turn, after patting Sirius on the arm. "What's going on?"

"I pointed out to 'Melia…" Harry began.

"Why must he _always_ shorten my name?" Hermione whispered to Minerva out of the corner of her mouth.

"...that since Voldemort is the only other person alive who is a Parselmouth, that other than around him, we could carry on perfectly loud conversations without risking anyone knowing what we were talking about," the boy continued. "And then we started talking in Parselmouth and Siri got irritated because he felt left out so we've been talking about...uh… stuff … for like an hour just to keep on annoying him."

Sirius growled. "Like I said, they're being a pair of bloody tossers."

Minerva couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips. "Well, ' _Melia_ ," she said, flashing a teasing grin Hermione's way, "perhaps I can do some damage control for you and Harry's sake."

Sirius lightened up. "You brought your broom?" he asked, looking hopeful.

Harry's expression mirrored his. She rolled her eyes. "It's by the front door. You gentlemen can go work your differences out flying, and I'll help the lady of the house get lunch prepared."

The two males were gone less than a minute later, Sirius quickly forgetting his dour mood in favor of playtime. The man really was part dog, in more ways than one.

The back door slammed shut behind Sirius and Harry, and Minerva returned her attention to Hermione. "So, my dear, how are things going with Mr. Potter?"

The other woman sighed. "Fairly well. I took him to Romania last week to see the dragons - Parselmouths can communicate with dragons, you see. We can't understand them, but they can understand us. To say the least, Harry was thrilled to learn this little tidbit. Salazar used dragons to help in the construction of Hogwarts, though he told me that he'd never let it out that he did - he did not want people to find a way to create the potion he made for me just so that they could talk to dragons. It would be dangerous, in the wrong hands."

"Like Voldemort's," Minerva agreed.

"Quite."

"I gather Mr. Weasley has not arrived yet?" the older witch remarked, having not seen Ronald, and remember Hermione mention in her last letter that Harry's friend would be coming over the same afternoon she did, though he'd be staying for nearly a week while she had to return to Hogwarts.

"Should be here any minute," Hermione mused, shuffling around the kitchen and pulling various items from cabinets. "Mrs. Weasley will be bringing him. I had Albus pop by the Burrow to show tell she and Ron the cottage's location. I have to say, I feel a new level of sympathy for James and Lily, knowing how difficult it is to have house guests while your home us under the Fidelus."

"I'd have thought Arthur would have brought Ronald. It's probably been twenty years since Molly was last on a broom."

Hermione chuckled. "Given that Mr. Weasley works at the Ministry every day I thought it wiser to have Ron's mum be the one given access to my little bunker here. Not that I don't trust the man - I do very much - but he is exposed to capture far more than Mrs. Weasley would be."

Minerva smirked at Hermione's use of surname for Ronald's parents. It was all she'd ever called them before, of course, but as an adult it would be expected that she use their given names. "She'll want you to call her _Molly_ ," she said, voicing her thoughts.

Hermione groaned. "I know, it's just... _wierd!_ I mean, she's Ron's mum. If Harry's parents were alive I'd be inclined to call them Mr. and Mrs. Potter as well. I know I'm decades older and have lived as an adult for years, but in my memory, I'm a child to them."

"You may want to consider telling Molly the truth," Minerva replied thoughtfully. "I know you hesitate to let many people in on things, but if Ronald will be here, it's only a matter of time before either Molly sees Sirius, or Ronald himself forgets his tongue and mentions the other occupant of this cottage. Once she knows about Sirius, she'll wonder what else you're hiding, and Molly is nothing if not good and finding out things others are trying to hide. Merlin knows she'd have to be with the likes of Fred and George about."

"You're probably right," Hermione nodded. "We'll tell her when she gets here. Ron was to bring his own broom, so we can shoo him out the door the moment he…"

A knock at the door was heard, cutting Hermione off. "Speak of the devils," Minerva laughed.

Hermione shook her head, and moved to go greet the two Weasleys. In preparation for the impending chat, Minerva found the things she needed to make tea for the three of them.

"Harry's out back," Hermione told Ron, ushering him toward the rear exit of the cottage, obviously taking care not to mention that Sirius was there too, not wanting to alert Molly of the wizard's presence until she'd had a chance to explain what an escaped convict was doing in her home, particularly the part of the story where he was innocent of the murders he'd been sent to Azkaban for.

"Won't you sit for tea, Molly?" Minerva asked, nodding toward the table.

Molly nodded. "I was surprised to see you here, Minerva. I didn't know you had a connection with Professor Slytherin aside from being co workers."

" _Hermione_..." she said, nodding to the woman who'd just finished placing some privacy wards up, not wanting Harry or Ron to come in and overhear what they were about to discuss. "...would like to share some things with you, which should help explain my presence."

Molly looked confused. "I thought Ron said your name was _Amelia_."

Hermione took a seat, followed by the other two. "On paper my name is Amelia Slytherin.I was, however, born Hermione Granger. We've met before, two summers ago by your reckoning, in Diagon Alley. For me, that happened over thirty years ago."

Molly peered at her skeptically, obviously trying to decide if Hermione was completely off her gourd or not. "And where have you been then, if thirty years passed for you so suddenly?"

"I was issued a time turner at start of this last school year," Hermione explained. "At the end of April I was going to Potions class, attempting to backtrack and hour so I wouldn't have missed it, and rather than going back an hour, I ended up going back ten centuries."

"Ten _centuries_?" Molly gaped. "You mean, you mean your name… _Slytherin_ …?"

Hermione smirked. "Salazar was my husband for over twenty years. We had a daughter together."

Molly suddenly looked pained, and Minerva realized it was a mother's sympathy upon concluding that Hermione must have - which she did - abandon her child when she returned to the present.

"What was her name?" Molly asked kindly.

"Lucy," the brunette replied softly. "She married a nice young wizard just before I had to leave. Salazar wanted them to wait to wed for another year, till she came of age, but Lucy wanted me to be at her wedding, and he couldn't deny either of us that."

"Arthur would have felt the same way, if it had been Ginny," Molly agreed. "I... sweet Merlin, Hermione, I'm not sure how to even comprehend what you've gone through. I am curious how you managed to get custody of Harry. I'm assuming the Ministry has no idea who you really are."

"You assume right," Minerva interjected. "And that is how it _must_ remain."

Molly nodded. "Of course."

"You know of Sirius Black?" Hermione asked.

Molly nodded, frowning. "I was already graduated by the time he came to Hogwarts, but my brothers talked about him during the war. I still can't believe that he… I mean Fabian and Gideon thought of him as a little brother, just as they felt for Remus, James, and Peter."

"He was innocent, Molly," Minerva said point blank. "Sirius was framed for the crimes, by someone else. It was not he who betrayed the Potters, but rather, it was Peter."

The Weasley woman's eyes widened. "What?!"

"We don't have proof, per se. Just Harry and Ron's account of the evening that Peter showed his true colors. Of course, the Ministry won't believe two young boys who have already been in more trouble than most student during their entire Hogwarts' careers," Minerva stated. She purposely elected to leave out the bit of the tale regarding Peter being an Animagus, and that he'd been living as _Scabbers_ , under Molly's roof, for probably the better part of the last twelve years. She was not in the mood for a hysterical redhead.

"So where is Sirius, then?" was Molly's next question. "Is he safe? Do you know?"

Hermione smiled. "He's out back with the boys," she said. "To answer your previous question regarding my gaining custody of Harry… I married Sirius a few weeks ago - just on paper, mind you, but that paperwork was doctored a bit to make the Ministry believe Sirius and I had married before he was sent to Azkaban. By extension of him being Harry's godfather, that made me Harry's godmother, and thereby I was within my rights to file for custody. The muggles did not object to losing custody, and Harry himself favored living with Sirius and I over his mum's sister, so the whole mess only took a day to sort out. In the same stroke, I managed to create a bit of a paper trail, the marriage license I mean, showing that Amelia Slytherin existed before a few months ago."

Molly was smiling now. "You know, it's funny. Fred and George wrote me a letter expressing concerns about you, Hermione. They were believed it was impossible that someone with the same name as one of the founders couldn't possibly have stayed under the radar as long as you claimed to have been."

Minerva and Hermione both chuckled. "Well," the older woman said. "They are smart boys, even if they are perpetual pranksters."

"I know for a fact they've shared their concerns with Ron and Harry," Molly continued, now frowning. "I know you're smart, Hermione, but it's really only a matter of time before the boys notice similarities between the Professor who showed up just after their best friend was whisked off to another school. The letters you write to them… if you intend to keep you secret for any length of time, they'll need to end."

Hermione looked sad. "I'd been thinking much the same," she replied honestly.

It hurt Minerva to see her friend looking so dejected. She'd wanted to keep contact with the boys in this manner because it was her last connection to the childhood she'd lost when she went back in time. It said a lot of her character that Hermione hadn't returned with a sense of superiority over Harry and Ron. To her, they were still the two boys she loved most in the world. They couldn't even be defined as friends or brothers, especially the mentor like relationship she had with them now. They were just… _her boys._

"Perhaps the letters could just stop," Molly suggested, "over time. Make it seem like they just grew apart. It happens so often to even the best of friends."

"No," Hermione replied, wiping a tear off her cheek. "I'll arrange it so the boys are informed that their friend has died in an accident. It's the truth, and nothing less. Hermione Granger died when she went back in time. It's just taken me this long to accept the facts."

Minerva knew it would be only a little help, but she couldn't stop the urge to wrap Hermione in her arms, whispering soothing assurances that it would be alright in the end. Molly stood behind the Defense Professor, rubbing circles on her back as Hermione cried for the life lost.

After lunch, Minerva escorted Molly to the door as they were both on their respective ways, leaving Hermione to wrangle Sirius, Harry, and Ron into helping clean up. As they each mounted their brooms, preparing to go in opposite directions, Minerva caught Molly looking at her oddly.

"What?" Minerva asked, thinking she had something on her face or some such.

"She's not a child, Minerva," Molly whispered, kicking off. "You don't have to feel guilty for falling in love with her."

Then Molly was gone, leaving a godsmacked Minerva in her wake, the truth in her long time friend's subtle accusation hitting hard. The lengthy trip back to Hogwarts gave her plenty of time to think about what the _hell_ she was going to do now.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	11. Chapter 11

**To guest reviewer 'Lovely Agnes' - I reply to your reviews regarding my lack of using the word "me". Yes, I certainly could have said "Sirius and me" rather than "Sirius and myself". I could also have her saying "yeah", rather than "Yes" or "Quite", or any other word. I have chosen how to do Hermione's dialogue carefully for this fic. It's not been an issue of "correctness" per se, but rather one of style. The Hermione that this story is about is not the teenaged girl featured in the books, movies, or even many other fanfics. She is a forty-five year old woman who has spent her most formidable years at the turn of the millennium. I wanted her language to reflect the differences in the child Hermione and this Hermione, and by the rest of the reviewers comments, I believe I've done that rather successfully. I say all of this very respectively. It's not an effort to lash back for negative feedback, but rather an effort to explain myself.**

 **To the rest of you, thank you for the continued support! You are all wonderful!**

* * *

Hermione sat quietly at the kitchen table, eying a letter from Molly she'd gotten just a few minutes ago. Both Sirius and Harry were still sleeping in their respective rooms. She'd always been an early riser, appreciating the lack of chaos around her as she got each day started.

Regarding Molly's letter, it had been an invitation for Harry to attend the Quidditch World Cup next week. Arthur had managed to get tickets, and had three spares. Molly proposed that those tickets could be used for Harry, herself, and Minerva. Molly has made a less than subtle hint that any excuse to see Minerva was a good one, and while Hermione always enjoyed spending time with the Scottish witch and had come to count on the friendship between them, she got the hint that Molly was thinking about more than friendship. If one thing could be counted on in this world, it was that Weasley women were always interested in who was dating who. According to Harry, young Ginny was considered the Hogwarts' matchmaker of her year. She certainly came by that personality trait honestly.

Personally, Hermione had enjoyed living for thirty years in a time period in which Quidditch hadn't yet been invented. Harry of course loved the sport, and would absolutely hate her if she declined the invitation. Minerva, she imagined, was probably one of those people everyone could hear shouting at professional matches. At least at Hogwarts, she kept her enthusiasm reigned in. As far as Hermione knew, anyway. She couldn't help but wonder how much gloating or drowning of sorrows Minerva did in the Staff Room after matches. Hermione supposed she'd find out when term started again.

Thinking about the Staff Room made Hermione start thinking about the staff in general. Minerva, of course, would keep on with Transfiguration. She'd be Defense. Pomona for Herbology, and Filius for Charms. Hagrid would keep on with Care of Magical Creatures till he died, that was a certainty. Sybil Trelawney would be staying on for Divination so long as Albus was Headmaster, according to Minerva. Hermione scowled at the very thought of the crackpot excuse of teacher.

Runes would still be filled by Babbling, Arithmancy had been Vector for nearly as long as Minerva had been teaching, and Sinistra still had Astronomy. Oh, Potions. Snape, of course, would still be there. Hermione wondered if she'd have to deal with his ire for usurping the position everyone knew he applied for every year. Come to think of it, why hadn't Albus and Minerva given her the Potions post, and let poor Severus take Defense? Her credentials were faked one or or another, and she was just as good with Potions as she was Defense. Perhaps she could suggest to Albus that she and Severus trade posts next term.

Suddenly, Hermione was struck with an interesting idea that would, possibly, solve several of her problems all at once. The responsible adult in her rather hated the idea as soon as she'd come up with it, but on the other hand, it had too much merit to simply disregard. Harry, and Ron for that matter, needed some closure. She needed to end Hermione Granger's existence. She also did not want to go to the Quidditch match in what may be interpreted as a date like event in the eyes of her friend, Minerva, though she didn't want to simple not offer Minerva the chance to go to the World Cup. Merlin knew the woman needed a day off now and then. This would solve everything.

Hermione finished drinking her tea, and then went to her office for parchment. She grabbed a quill off her desk and jotted out a note for Harry and Sirius, whenever the woke up.

 _Gentlemen,_

 _I've gone to run some errands this morning. There's eggs in the icebox and items you'd need to make pancakes if you're so inclined. Please have a piece of fruit with your breakfast as well - you both need far more vitamins in your diets than you presently have. If I'm not back by lunch, there's fixings for sandwiches, and there should still be some leftover soup from dinner on Friday. I will be back before supper._

 _Do not leave the wards. Do not injure yourselves flying. Sirius, I trust that you can heal Harry should you disregard the later of those requests, though if you disregard the former, you'll be visiting St. Mungo's when I'm through with you. Harry, stay out of my office. If I catch you in there one more time young man, your broom is mine for the rest of the summer, and I will reconsider a very special treat I have planned for you next weekend. Sirius, if Harry loses his broom, you do not get it either, so don't even think about goading him into my office in order to get it on your own for a while._

 _In case of emergency, Floo to the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. I'm opening the network to there as I will be traveling that way myself. No, the Floo will not take you anywhere else. If you wish to come to the castle, perhaps visit Hagrid, that's fine, but please send me a Patronus to let me know you're there._

 _Enjoy what remains of your morning -_

 _A.H.S_

Hermione couldn't, no matter how many times she'd tried, bring herself to sign her name as Amelia. Not knowing what the name meant to Minerva. She'd gotten into the habit of signing with initials only, using H for the middle letter. At this point, Harry hadn't asked what the _H_ stood for, but even if he did, she wouldn't tell him.

Sirius, of course, knew and was at least mature enough to not tease her about the small cling to her former name. As long as she lived, she'd have to go by Amelia among the general public. She was building an identity around the name, and changing it now would just increase the chance of being found out later. Sirius avoided calling her by name at all, and unless they were in front of Harry or someone else not to know her true identity, Minerva still called her _Hermione_. It was an immeasurable comfort.

After placing her missive on the kitchen table, and stating her destination, Hermione tossed some purple powder into the fire and a moment later emerged in a large hall with nothing but a fireplace in it. She walked briskly to the opposite wall where the Room of Requirement exit was, and after checking on Harry's map - which she'd _borrowed_ for the morning - to make certain the corridor beyond was clear, she stepped into Hogwarts proper.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she whispered, tapping the Marauder's Map with her wand. A quick scan showed Hermione that Minerva was in the Headmaster's office with Albus, and after a quickly uttered _mischief managed_ she stowed the map back in her robe pocket and began the trek to their location.

For the second time, she bypassed the Headmaster's password - some candy item no doubt - with the original parseltongue one, and let herself into the grand office, earning a look of amusement from both occupants.

"Hermione!" Minerva greeted, coming forward and pulling her into a tight hug. "What brings you here today?"

"If Albus can spare you next Saturday and Sunday, I was wondering if you might be able to take Harry to the Quidditch World Cup," she explained. "Arthur managed to get tickets and Molly extended an invitation to us to join he and the children. I'm afraid I will be unavailable to act as guardian on that day, though Harry would never forgive me if he missed out on this. Sirius, of course, cannot be seen in wizarding public at this point, so he cannot go."

Hermione had carefully worded her request, not wanting to lie to Albus and Minerva but absolutely not wanting to tell them what her plan was. One or both of them were likely to try and talk her out of it, and half her own psyche was already trying to do that. Minerva would of course, find out next Saturday, but by then it would be too late to stop her. Hermione was not looking forward to the lecture that was sure to follow.

"Of course," Minerva said easily, looking even more cheerful. "It's no fun to go to the World Cup alone, so I'd not planned on it, but I'm sure Harry and I can have a good time with the Weasleys. If that's alright with you Albus," she added, looking at her boss.

"Of course," he replied. "Minerva is certainly due a break."

"A break from _your_ bloody paperwork," the Scottish witch muttered under her breath.

Hermione stifled a giggle.

The three sat for tea and chatted for an hour before Hermione insisted that she had another appointment. She needed to see Severus before leaving the castle, and really did want to try and be back at the cottage by lunch time. Merlin knew what the boys had gotten themselves into in the last hour alone. If she was lucky, they'd only now be getting their lazy arses out of bed to find her note, despairing at the opportunity for mischief wasted on sleeping in on a Sunday morning.

"Minerva, if you'd like to spend the night at the cottage Friday night, it would make leaving at such an early hour on Saturday much easier," Hermione offered as she stood to leave.

"Probably smart," Minerva agreed. "You'll make a portkey?"

Hermione nodded. "Untraceable. I'm don't want the Ministry aware that Harry has left the safety of the Fidelus charm. Merlin knows enough people will know once you get to the match, but by then you'll be surrounded by the relative safety of millions of crazy Quidditch fans."

"It's a shame you can't come too," Minerva bemoaned. "Though I'm sure whatever you're up to is important."

Hermione appreciated her friend's lack of prying. "It is," she assured Minerva. "I'll tell you all about it after."

She hugged Minerva goodbye, and nodded to Albus, and then took her leave. Hermione didn't waste her time looking at the map again to locate Severus. He would be in the dungeons, where he always was. She was actually pretty sure the only reason he ate in the Great Hall when term was in session was because Albus ordered him to. Minerva had mentioned Severus was nothing short of a recluse during the summer months, and Hermione had no delusions about how less than thrilled he'd be over her _stopping by_. Unfortunately, she needed the help of a Potions Master if this plan was going to work, and he was the only one she'd trust with this particular brew. She'd have done it herself, but the cottage did not have a lab.

Hermione did have the courtesy to knock on his lab door, upon hearing the sound of cauldrons already boiling behind it and taking that to be evidence he was there, rather than his office or quarters. "Enter!" she heard him snap.

She did so. "Professor Snape," she greeted.

He did not look surprised to see her, though the man had an unreadable expression on the best of days. "Professor Slytherin," he replied. "What are you doing here?"

"I require a potion, and I haven't a lab or ingredients at my disposal," she explained. "I was wondering if you might be willing to assist me. I will, of course, reimburse you for the cost of materials."

"What brew?" Severus asked.

She handed him a book with the recipe, bookmarked by sheet of parchment with her notes on the minor modifications she'd need to make in order to achieve the desired result. He took it, looked at both items, and a minute later, looked back at her.

"That is an odd brew for a woman of your age and standing to be wanting," he stated. "Which leads me to inquire after an explanation."

"Unfortunately, you'll not be getting an explanation at this juncture," she countered firmly. "You are, of course, free to speculate, though should those speculations think to leave your lips, I'd have to do something rather unladylike."

It really was only a matter of time before she was forced to tell Severus Snape the truth of who she was. He was too smart not to be suspicious of the holes in her cover story, and to inquisitive not to try and work out at least some of what she was hiding. But not today. She was determined that the snarky Potions master get to know the woman she was now before he started judging her based on the girl he used to know.

He smirked at her. "It seems a Surname is not the only thing you took of your husband's," he commented. "For someone who is allegedly a Gryffindor, you certainly know how to play the Slytherin game. For that alone, you are welcome to use my lab. If you know enough of Potions to modify a brew, I trust you will not blow anything up."

* * *

 **Cookies to whoever can guess Hermione's plan! PLEASE REVIEW!**


	12. Chapter 12

**End of the line... for one character. *hands out cookies to the several reviewers who guessed my intentions***

* * *

Minerva and Harry looked unnaturally chipper for five in the morning as Hermione hugged them each goodbye. Hermione, the other witch noticed, was her usual bright eyed self, though she seemed a bit sedated. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Hermione nodded. "Just apprehensive about my plans for today."

"Care to share?" Minerva inquired, not liking that Hermione was hiding anything from her. She had kept Hermione's secrets faithfully these last months - it seemed odd that she'd be holding back now.

"You'll know by midday, though I ask that you refrain from the lecture till I've had the opportunity to explain myself," Hermione said, eying Harry warily as he munched on an apple while Sirius was begging him to take lots and lots of pictures.

"That really doesn't make me feel any better," the older woman mumbled. "However, you're a grown woman and I trust you wouldn't do anything if you didn't believe it necessary."

Hermione laughed. "Remember you said that, later."

With a shake of her head, Minerva called out to Harry. "Portkey in thirty seconds," she announced, gently pushing Hermione away from the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ which had been used to make said travel aide. Minerva had to appreciate the irony in Hermione's choice of objects to enchant.

Harry rushed over, bidding what Minerva assumed was a farewell to his guardian. They were conversing in Parseltongue, so for all she knew, they were discussing state secrets. "Ten, nine, eight…" she started counting.

Harry moved to grab the other end of the rolled up paper, waving to Sirius, and a few seconds later, he and Minerva were tumbling through the fabric of space-time and a bit of wibbly wobbly after, they landed just outside the boundaries of the wards surrounding the stadium. Harry landed in a tangle of limbs, and Minerva, who had landed as graceful as ever, smirked down at him.

"Teach me how to do that?" Harry requested grudgingly.

Minerva nodded. "Another time. I'm sure you're anxious to meet up with the Ronald and his family."

Harry nodded, and they were off. Finding the Weasleys was no trouble at all with a simple _Point Me_ charm, and the morning progressed with no trouble at all, all parties enjoying the start of the match. It wasn't until they'd headed down to the food court for lunch that Minerva's world turned on it's axis, and Hermione's comments that morning began to make perfect sense.

"Harry! Ron!" A familiar voice called out.

There, just a few yards away, stood a teenaged girl that Minerva had spent three years mentoring, hoping for a picture perfect future for the intelligent young witch that she knew now would never come to pass.

"HERMIONE!" Harry yelped, bolting toward her.

"Bloody hell! HERMIONE!" Ron joined in, catching up quickly.

By the time Minerva had caught up to the trio, they'd pulled apart and the boys were listening with rapt attention as Hermione explained that she'd taught herself to apparate so that she could come today, having heard from a friend, whose mum worked at the Ministry, that tickets to the Quidditch World Cup had been given to Arthur Weasley. She'd been sure that Ron would be there, and hoped Harry would be able to come as well.

"I'm glad to see you looking well, _Miss Granger_ ," Minerva said sternly. "Though it was incredibly foolish to do what you've done."

Hermione visibly gulped. "Professor McGonagall," she greeted.

Harry brightened. "You can just call her _Minerva_ ," he told his friend. "Me and Ron do. Bugger, I wish my godmother was here today - you'd love her - but like I told you in my letters, Minerva's around the cottage all the time, so…"

"Mate, you're babbling," Ron said, grinning.

"Right. Sorry," Harry blushed. "I'm just so happy to see you, 'Mione!"

"I'm glad to see you guys as well," she replied. "I hated that I didn't even get to say goodbye to you, before I left."

"Well it's not as if we thought we'd never see you again," Ron shrugged. "Even if we had to wait till we were seventeen, we'd have managed to get together again. You just don't fight trolls together and not be mates for life, you know?"

Hermione smiled at Ron, pulling him into a tight hug. "I've missed you so much, Ron."

"You mean you miss him more because the tosser doesn't write you enough," Harry teased.

Minerva watched the exchanged with conflicted emotions. Firstly, there was worry that whatever Hermione had done was permanent. Would they need to be reconsidering Harry's placement, if she was back to being a teenager for good? Second, there was the understanding for why she'd done it, be it permanent or temporary - she was inclined to believe the latter, mind. It was about closure, for both she and the boys, especially when one considered the conversation they'd had two weeks ago with Molly about putting an end to the fabricated life of Hermione _Granger_. Minerva knew, and Hermione did as well, that this was the last afternoon for the Golden Trio. This was goodbye.

The other aspect of this situation playing havoc on Minerva's emotions at the moment was the harsh reality of the fact that this was the child she'd known, but she was also the woman Minerva was falling in love with. Awkward didn't even begin to explain the feeling. Hermione had deaged herself to the point she should be now, not where she was a year ago, and a year ago Hermione had still looked like a girl. Now, she looked like a young woman, and Minerva cringed as she mentally evaluated the curves in the teen's body.

 _Bad cat_ , she thought to herself.

Teenaged Hermione joined Minerva and the boys for the rest of the afternoon, Minerva favoring the company of Arthur to participating in the trio's conversation. Despite the utter excitement in coming to the match, neither Ron or Harry seemed to care much about Bulgaria versus Ireland now that their friend was there. _As it should be_ , Minerva reminded herself over and over again. As much as she'd have loved to spend today with Hermione, today wasn't about her or her stupid feelings. It was about Hermione and the boys.

It wasn't till they were heading back to the camp to settle in for the night that Minerva had a chance to pull Hermione aside while the boys were helping Arthur get the fire going. "Please tell me this change isn't permanent," she muttered.

"Rest assured, it's not," Hermione replied. "And even if that was possible, I wouldn't do it. Harry needs me as a gaurdian far more than he needs me as a friend. I could not take an action that would result in his being sent back to the Dursleys."

"Good," Minerva said. "I didn't figure you could be that irresponsible, but I am looking at a teenaged girl at the moment, so forgive me for double checking."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I hope you're not wondering why I didn't tell you ahead of time what I was doing," she scoffed. "I knew that the minute I suggested it, you and Albus would both start treating me like a fifteen year old!"

"We would not!" Minerva said sternly.

"You're doing it now!" Hermione snapped. "That look on your face right now is all _Professor McGonagall_. I don't see a single trace of my friend Minerva right now."

Minerva was about to retort, but she stopped upon hearing shouts that did not sound as celebratory as it had been a few minutes ago. "Hermione, get out your wand," she whispered.

"I'm not going to Duel you!" Hermione exclaimed, looking at her incredulously.

"No, not me. Listen," she ordered, point toward where increasing screams were coming from.

"Oh, bloody hell," Hermione muttered, pulling out her wand at once. "This potion won't wear off for another several hours. You need to get Harry back to the cottage, and Harry can't see me at the cottage like this, so I'll go to Hogwarts, I suppose."

"And hope nobody is in Albus' office when you arrive?" Minerva said skeptically. "You can't be seen."

"I'll portkey to the Room of Requirement, not the Head's office," Hermione declared. "I don't really want to argue with Albus over my condition, either."

Minerva nodded, unable to argue in light of what she'd just seen shooting up into the air. It was a symbol she'd not seen in fourteen blessed years. "Hermione…" she whispered, pointing.

"The Dark Mark," Hermione growled.

"It's time to say goodbye, dearest," the older witch said softly, pointing to where Harry, Ron, and Arthur were still stoking the fire, oblivious to the mayhem coming their way. Then she called out to the elder Weasley. "Arthur!"

"Yes Minerva?" he replied absently, still observing what he'd hoped would cook their supper.

"We're under attack, Weasley!" she snapped.

That got Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Arthur's attention. The twins' heads popped out of the tent, and Ron, Harry and Arthur looked her way.

"What's that sign, dad?" Ron asked, pointing at the eirie green mark in the air - a serpent and a skull.

"The Dark Mark," Arthur said. "Boys, grab only what you would not want to lose. We'll come back for the tent and other supplies later. If there's a Dark Mark in the air, then Death Eaters won't be far behind."

"But what's the Dark Mark? And what are Death Eaters?" Harry wanted to know.

"I'll explain when we get you home, Harry," Minerva said patiently. "Say your goodbyes, quickly."

Harry and Ron both rushed over to Hermione. "It's not fair," Ron grumbled. "We should have had the whole weekend together."

"I know," Hermione replied. "But this was enough. You boys take care of yourselves, you hear?"

Minerva knew the tears on Hermione's face were not fake or forced. She knew this was the last goodbye, even if the boys didn't. If Minerva knew Hermione, she'd use this situation to her advantage and Harry and Ron would be shortly receiving news that she'd died trying to escape the Death Eaters. If that very plausible tale hadn't already crossed the Madam Slytherin's mind, Minerva intended to suggest it. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but she was not inclined to ever encounter _Miss Granger_ again. It was too...confusing.

She already had the Portkey for she and Harry in hand. As soon as Harry choked out the words ' _good luck_ ' to Hermione and Ron, she placed a hand on his shoulder and muttered the activation key. The word _closure_ Hermione had instructed her to use this morning now made perfect sense.

Once again, Harry fell to floor when they arrived at the cottage, though this time he did not complain. His mind was elsewhere, and Minerva didn't blame him. He had right to fear for his friends, even if he didn't know what the Dark Mark, or Death Eaters were. The whole mood of the group had shifted from carefree to fearful by the time they'd left.

It was a good hour before Sirius managed to pry Harry away from his position in front of the fireplace, and after Minerva had coaxed him into eating something for dinner, the three of them sat down and discussed what Death Eaters were, and what the Dark Mark meant. It wasn't long after that when Molly's Patronus arrived to let them know Arthur and the boys had made it safely back to the Burrow, though there was no word from Hermione - not the teenager Harry wanted to hear from, nor the adult that Minerva knew was waiting to return to being.

Finally, at nearly midnight, a tired looking adult Hermione arrived back at the cottage. Harry tackled her into a hug at once. "Where have you been?" he demanded.

"I had business to attend to, Harry," she explained. "I only just heard about what happened at the World Cup - Albus sent word to me and I came as quickly as I could. I hadn't intended to be here all weekend."

"I haven't bothered to contact Albus," Minerva said. "How did he find out?"

Minerva was fairly certain she knew exactly what Hermione was going to say, and if she was right, this would be the prompt the other woman needed to present the sad news.

"Albus was contacted by the Ministry to identify a body recovered at the campground," Hermione replied. "I'm sorry, Harry, but it appears that your friend, Hermione Granger, was at the match today and was killed while trying to escape the Death Eaters."

Harry collapsed, but both Minerva and Hermione had been ready for it and grabbed him on either side, easing him onto the carpet. "NO!" he screamed. "NO!"

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione cooed, holding him close. "I am _so_ , so sorry."

Minerva sat there, rubbing the other woman's back as she and Harry both cried. She knew Hermione's own grief was two-fold. First, for the laying to rest all that was left of the life she'd been born to, and secondly for having to deceive her best friend is the worst way possible. Minerva didn't doubt that the brunette would feel she'd done nothing short of betray Harry tonight, and would never blame him for refusing to forgive her when he, one day, was told the truth.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Well. This chapter was an absolute bitch to write, though I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. Some of you have mentioned in your reviews wonderings about the status of the HG/MM romance... I promise, things will be building up soon. This is going to be a lengthy fic, probably the longest I've written. I didn't want to rush into that side of things till I'd established who each of these women are. ENJOY!**

* * *

Hermione and Minerva stepped into the staffroom, ready for the briefing before students would arrive in about an hour. Harry had been dropped off at the Burrow a few days ago, spending the last of the holiday with his best friend's family. Hermione knew she could trust Molly to ensure Harry made it to King's Cross Station in time for the train to Hogwarts. By now, he and the other Weasley children would be starting to change into robes, in preparation for the arrival at the start of their fourth year. This would be the first time Harry and Ron had come to Hogwarts without her. It was strange to even think about how fresh a wound it was for them, while for her it was all so long ago she'd left them behind in a whirl of the sands of time.

"What the blood hell is he doing here?" Minerva asked suddenly, pointing to a man sitting on the far side of the room. His eyes were black, his hair salt and pepper and pulled back against his scalp, tied there will a band. His skin had an almost yellow tinge to it, and his sharp, angular features made him look like a man not to be trifled with, despite the fact the fact that if he were standing, he wouldn't be much taller than Hermione.

"I'd prefer you keep your pet on a leash, Professor Slytherin," he drawled, looking bored. "Though it's a pleasure to see you again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Now, now, Leland. Be respectful of Professor McGonagall."

"If he doesn't, I'd happily hex him," Minerva hissed. "Is that clear, Dourif?"

Leland Dourif continued to look bored. "Still upset you couldn't outscore me on your Transfiguration NEWT, McGonagall? Really, it's been decades. You did outscore Albus' marks, so at least that's something."

Hermione suspected, though she didn't know for sure, that the man she'd convinced Albus to hire to assist her in the higher level Defense classes was older than he looked. Retrospectively she probably should have checked his Ministry records, though after being referred to him by Cyrus Prince, she'd thought the Legitimacy would tell her all she really needed to know. He'd not fought her on the matter, having recognized her from the memory that had been passed down through his own line, much like Cyrus had. That said, he only appeared to be about fifty, though he had to be least a year or two older than Minerva, and she would be fifty-nine next month. She honestly wouldn't be surprised if he was older than Albus. There just something… aged about him.

Albus entered the room a moment later, followed by Sprout, Flitwick, Hagrid, Sinistra, Vector, Babbling, Trelawney, Snape, Pomfrey, Pince, Hooch, and even Filch. Hermione reminded herself that much like with Molly and Arthur, she'd need to start calling these people by their given names. Adult to adult. Sometimes, it was really hard for her to reconcile being a fellow adult around people she'd only ever known from the eyes of a child.

Just as the Headmaster was about to call the meeting to order, Binns floated in, with the ghost of a young woman on his arm. "I am sorry for my tardiness, Albus," Binns said. "But Helena requested an escort. She would like to sit in on today's meeting, if that's alright."

The Grey Lady allowed her fellow ghost to speak for her, gaze wandering the room until, to Hermione's surprise, rested on herself.

"Is everything alright, dear lady?" Flitwick asked the ghost of his House.

"Of course, Filius," Helena replied, eyes staying latched onto Hermione. "I only wished to meet the new members of the staff."

"Which was, of course, my first order of business," Albus agreed. "We'd like to to welcome Amelia Slytherin, who will be taking of the Defense Against the Dark Arts post…"

Hermione nodded in acknowledgment of the group around her, though her eyes were still locked with Helena. She'd known since she first arrived at Hogwarts when she was eleven that the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower was the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw. Now, however, that knowledge meant something. This young woman who'd died too soon had been the child of her former lover. Had Hermione remained in the past, she would have known Helena in life. She suddenly found herself wondering if Rowena had spoken of her to Helena, or if the life she'd forged after Hermione had returned to the present had been void of any talk of the past they'd shared.

"...and over here is Leland Dourif, who will be assisting Amelia with the upper years. Not that Amelia isn't more than competent." Albus quickly assured his veteran staff, "We simply agreed that Professor Dourif would be a good addition to the staff in light of other events this year."

"Would this be the event that is canceling Quidditch this year?" Hooch asked, looking annoyed.

"You can't cancel Quidditch!" Minerva exclaimed, aghast.

Albus looked at his Deputy sympathetically. "Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year."

Dourif grunted. "Had I known that, I'd have not agreed to coming. Am I to assume that Mad-Eye will be along before the week is out to lead an Auror contingent keeping an eye on ol' Karkaroff, Albus?"

The Headmaster nodded. "Alistor Moody, along with a team of seven other Aurors, will be taking up residence at Hogwarts for the duration of the school year."

"Just bloody great," Severus mumbled.

Hermione wasn't sure if Severus was bemoaning the presence of Alistor Moody, an Auror who had been very vocal about putting Severus in Azkaban after the fall of Voldemort, or if he was dreading the company of his former fellow, Igor Karkaroff. Between her now numerous contacts in Pureblood society and her conversations with Albus and Minerva, she'd come to know a lot about the parts of the past which, had she truly been born in 1948 as her official paperwork indicated, she'd have already have known. Despite the difficulty in learning nearly forty years worth of wizarding history and politics in the space of one summer, she'd actually found the _homework_ invigorating. Through it all, she still loved to learn.

Albus continued to outline the details of the Triwizard Tournament for a while, then moved on to the rest of what needed to be reviewed before the meeting was over. During the whole meeting, Hermione felt the Grey Lady's gaze on her, and resolved to approach the ghost later on. The meeting finally closed and the group filed out of the room; some to their own quarters, though most headed down to the Great Hall for supper and to welcome the students back to Hogwarts.

"Is there a reason you didn't see fit to mention your recruitment of Leland _bloody_ Dourif before this meeting?" Minerva asked, coming up behind Hermione and Albus, who had been just discussing the possibility of the visiting students being included in some of the classes.

"It was a staffing issue, Minerva," Albus said calmly. "Hermione approached me about adding a second Defense instructor to help pick up the slack if she should need to flee the castle for some reason, and I agreed."

"But _why_ Dourif?" The Scottish witch fumed.

"That was my idea," Hermione said, frowning. "Cyrus Prince recommended him both for his skill and the fact that he comes from a pureblood line which would be honor bound to meet any request I make. With the supposed curse on the Defense post, Albus and I agreed if we were to bring someone on, it would need to be someone who _couldn't_ say no to me. I honestly had no idea you had any sort of history with Leland. I would have told you beforehand had I been aware."

Minerva's glare softened slightly, obviously finding no fault in she and Albus' reasoning for her lack of being informed, though still being peeved that the mysterious man was in the castle. "I just don't see how either of you could see it wise to bring to the staff a man tried for multiple murders."

"He was never convicted," Albus argued.

"Of murder, no," Minerva conceded. "But he also has a list of assault charges as long as my arm. How can you possibly say that he's safe?"

"Safe?" Hermione laughed, thinking about the things she'd witnessed in the man in question's memories. "Of course he isn't safe! But he's _good_."

"How do you know?" the other woman asked.

"Severus is not the only person at Hogwarts proficient in Legilmancy," Hermione replied, giving her friend a pointed look as each of the three took seats at the Head Table in the Great Hall. "Now, I think we ought to consider the subject dropped for the time being. I dislike arguing with food in my mouth, and dinner is about to be served."

Minerva guffawed, and after a few more minutes of idle chatter with the rest of the staff, she excused herself to go meet the incoming First Years. A few minutes later and the group of new students followed her into the room, looking as dazzled at the sight as Hermione remembered feeling all those years ago.

Then, it was time for the Sorting. Minerva turned to Albus before she called the first student to sit on the stool "You know, Albus, Professor Slytherin here tells me she has a real _talent_ for guessing where students will be sorted."

"Oh, is that so, Amelia?" Albus said, looking interested.

Hermione snickered, and nodded. "You could say that. Care for a demonstration?"

"I'd love it, my dear."

"I'll bet you fifty galleons she gets them all right," Minerva said pointedly.

"I'll take that bet," Filius chimed in.

"As will I," Albus agreed. "It would be impossible to guess them all, just on sight. Are you sure you want to wager that much money, Minerva?"

"If she does, I'm in as well," Severus put in. "Albus is correct. It would be impossible."

Minerva grinned at Hermione. "I'll split the winnings with you," she said.

"You're not doing any of the work," Hermione smirked. "You get a third."

"Fine, then. Taking Albus' money is fun enough," Minerva agreed. "You can reap the benefits of Severus and Filius' foolishness."

All three men still looked sure that it would be Minerva ultimately paying up, and with a final smile, the Deputy Headmistress turned back to the students and called out the first name. "Ackerley, Stewart!"

Hermione stretched out her magic toward the child walking to the stool. "The first of the crop goes to you, Filius," she said.

Seconds after the hat was placed on the little boy's head, it called out, "RAVENCLAW!"

"Lucky guess," Severus said skeptically.

"Baddock, Malcolm!" Minerva called.

"Yours, Severus."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Severus glared at her. "Very lucky guess."

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"Hufflepuff," Hermione sighed.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat confirmed.

"How are you doing this?" Albus asked, looking far more interested than he had five minutes prior.

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"It's a gift, what can I say?" Hermione replied. "And another for Pomona."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

The boy in question bounded up to the stood with a huge grin, one which was mirrored by his older brother already sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"Gryffindor," Albus, Severus, Filius, and Hermione all said at once.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Dobbs, Emma!" Minerva called out, smiling at her newest cub, as he bounded toward where his brother Colin was sitting.

"Ravenclaw," Hermione said firmly. "That girl is just shy of genius."

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat concurred.

"Etter, Alicia!"

"Another for you, Severus!" she assessed cheerfully.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Flint, Deanna!" was up next.

"Are you using Legilmancy?" Severus asked suddenly.

"No, and this one will also be yours," Hermione said with a large grin.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"I don't like you," Severus spat.

"Giles, Ethan!" Minerva called forward.

"Sore loser, much?" she said pointedly. "And this one is for Gryffindor."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Innes, Carrie!"

"It's not about losing, Professor," Severus said. "I don't like people who hide things, and you are _obviously_ doing just that."

"I'm hiding many things," Hermione agreed. "It's a wonderful thing, privacy. Also, another Slytherin."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"I really don't like you," Severus insisted.

Arya Jamison when to Gryffindor next, followed by Manning Kirkland to Hufflepuff, Aaron Lockley to Ravenclaw, Laura Madley was another to Hufflepuff, and then both William Marsters and Natalie McDonald joined Gryffindor House. Hermione was on the mark for each of them. Severus rubbed his temples when she called Byron Nichols as another Slytherin, and Albus shook his head when Belle Ottoman went to Gryffindor.

"Pritchard, Graham!" Minerva called next.

Hermione just pointed to Severus.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat yelped.

"I've officially lost my appetite," the Potions Master grumbled.

A small blond haired girl ambled toward the stool after Minerva called for 'Pykit, Robin', and as with every student before, Hermione called it correctly; Hufflepuff this time.

"Quirke, Orla!" Minerva called.

"Yours, Filius," Hermione said tiredly. She was glad they were nearing the end of the list. Doing this always drained her magical core a bit, though she didn't have a class to teach until tomorrow afternoon, so she was not worried about being depleted. Besides, she could always stop by the Hospital Wing and ask Poppy for a Replenisher potion. She was certainly not going to ask Severus for one anytime soon.

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat agreed with Hermione.

Both Marie Roland and Quentin Samuels both went to Ravenclaw as well, and finally they were down to one, final student. "Whitby, Kevin!" Minerva said.

"And… Hufflepuff," Hermione assessed, offering a little bow.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat said, securing her victory.

All three men were still staring at Hermione when Minerva joined them back at the table. "So," she said. "How many did our new Professor manage to guess correctly?

"All of them," Albus said, looking stunned. That certainly didn't happen every day. Hermione thought he actually looked a bit like a kicked puppy, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

Minerva smirked, leaned over and pecked Hermione on the cheek. "Well done, my dear," she whispered.

Hermione forced herself not to touch the place Minerva had just kissed her, quite suddenly remembering the initial attraction she'd had upon returning to her proper timeline. She'd so effectively shoved that feeling aside in favor of mourning Salazar, Rowena, Helga, and Godric that she'd almost forgotten about it. The last few months had been so busy, she really hadn't had the time to look at Minerva as anything more than a friend, but if the way the Scottish woman was looking at her now was any indication, the attraction was anything but one-sided.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	14. Chapter 14

**And... one, two, three... READ!**

* * *

As had become custom for Minerva, Hermione, and Harry, the trio gathered in the Scottish woman's quarters for dinner on Sunday evening. It was mid October now, and both Professors were settling into teaching, albeit with the unusual addition of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students in some of the core classes. It was not mandatory for the visiting students, though a good thirty percent of them had agreed to jump in and take advantage of a different curriculum than they were used to.

Minerva smiled as Hermione and Harry entered her quarters, raising an eyebrow at the hissed conversation going on between them. Harry seemed so very comfortable at Hermione's side, and Minerva couldn't help to relate the look he was giving her to how she's seen many a child over the years look at their parents. She wasn't sure if it was a good idea or not - Harry seeing Hermione as a mother figure - but it was happening, plain as day. "Good evening, you two," Minerva greeted in perfectly sensible English, effectively putting a halt to the Parseltongue.

"Hey, Minerva," Harry said, offering a one-armed hug.

The teenager was still not completely used to seeing his Professor in such a casual setting, but he was getting there. It occurred to Minerva fleetingly that if ever she and Hermione _were_ to get involved romantically, and given how he was obviously looking at his godmother, it was probable that she herself would be viewed in much the same way as a step-parent. That really was an odd thought. Minerva had long ago given up on having a family of her own. Maybe, just maybe, in time she could become a part of the one evolving right before her eyes.

She let out a small groan when she realized that little _family_ included one Sirius Black.

"Minerva," Hermione said, taking her turn at a hug. "As always, thank you for having Harry and me for supper."

"Of course, ' _Melia_ ," Minerva smirked.

While she obviously couldn't call Hermione by her real name in front of Harry, she still had trouble actually calling the woman _Amelia_. She found that Harry's shortening of the name was an acceptable middle ground, though Hermione always - _yes, there it was_ \- groaned when she used it.

"What's the use of having a perfectly good name if no one ever actually uses it?" Hermione queried.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, my dear," Minerva replied. "Blame whoever named you for giving you a name so easily shortened."

The other woman rolled her eyes. "Fine then, _Min_."

"Unlike you, I don't actually mind that shortening of my name," Minerva said, chuckling. "Now, I expect you two are hungry."

Harry nodded eagerly, and Hermione just smiled at her. With a snap of her fingers, the kitchen table was set with three settings of chicken alfredo, fried asparagus, and buttered bread. Dessert, later on, would be a key lime pie and tea. Wine would be served with dinner; a privilege that Minerva allowed Harry on condition that if he ever told his friends, the privilege would be revoked. He seemed to not mind keeping such a small secret from Ronald, Neville, and his other friends, when he considered the weekly buzz the Deputy Headmistress allowed him.

"This looks splendid," Hermione commented, taking her seat and pointing out the napkin on the table for Harry's benefit. Minerva wondered if Hermione had remained Harry and Ron's peer, if Harry might have eventually developed table manners by watching her, but with only the youngest Mister Weasley to share most of his meals, his table etiquette was decidedly lacking.

"I can't claim the credit," Minerva replied modestly. "I cheat by way of House Elves. One of the many reasons I love teaching at Hogwarts is that it prevents me from starving to death. I can't cook to save my life."

Harry smirked. "I can cook. It's about the one good thing I ever learned from the Dursleys."

Minerva grumbled and turned to Hermione. "Are you certain I cannot go hex those dreadful muggles halfway to Camelot?"

"I rather think Albus would be displeased if he were to lose you to Azkaban for something so decidedly not worth it." Hermione replied. "Harry needs you here, as do I."

Minerva turned to fetch silverware in an effort to hide the blush rising on her cheeks. _Damn Scottish paleness._ It was bloody impossible to pretend a blush was anything but just that. It was getting to be a bit infuriating, how often Hermione made her blush. It wasn't like the woman was flirting outright, or even offering blatant compliments every other minute, it was just how Hermione spoke to her.

There was a shred of the teenaged Hermione still lingering in the way that there was obvious respect given by the now-adult. It wasn't the sort of respect that came from a long standing friendship - it really had only been a few months since they'd _met_ \- but it was the sort of respect that came from viewing another person as a superior. On the other hand, the adult before her _demanded_ equality between them. She was well aware that respect and trust would need to be earned, but she had been insistent from the day she'd come back that Minerva treat her as she would any other adult.

At first, that had been difficult for Minerva. She'd seen those beautiful brown eyes and remembered the child she'd known. Slowly, those eyes were becoming more associated with the grown woman, but there were still moments that Minerva remembered who Hermione really was. It was so easy, preferred in fact, to simply forget that the bushy haired Miss Granger had ever existed at all. It made these bloody feelings easier to deal with.

"So," Minerva prompted after a lull in conversation some twenty minutes later. "How are you managing to get along with the other members of the staff?"

Hermione sighed. "Severus is still sore about the Sorting debacle. I needed to get a potion from him the other day, and when I asked him for it, the tosser said ' _How about you predict me saying_ no'. Can you believe that man?"

"As I've know Severus since he was eleven, I can indeed," Minerva replied with a small laugh. "He's known for two things: his unparalleled skills as a Potions Master, and his ability to hold a grudge for all eternity. At least you don't have to work side by side with him."

The other woman sighed. "Minerva, I know you have reservations about Leland, but I _do_ trust him. I wish you'd trust my judgement."

Harry took that opportunity to cough. "If you guys don't mind - I'm finished eating - can I go sit in the living room and start on my Transfiguration essay?"

Minerva chuckled. "Currying favor by taking such an interest in the homework that I set you?"

"No," Harry said slyly. "I'm taking measures to ensure I pass your very difficult class with at least an E, or my godmother says I will not have broom privileges next summer."

Both women laughed. "You go on, Harry," Hermione said. "If you opt to return to the Tower at any point before I'm ready to head back to my quarters, just let me know before you leave."

"Of course," he replied, picking up his satchel and heading to the adjoining room.

Minerva cast a privacy ward about the kitchen. They could hear if Harry called for them, but all he'd hear of their conversation would be mumbling. She would not be taking chances with the son of a Marauder. James Potter and his friends had been the cause of Minerva's extensive knowledge of all spells privacy related.

She turned back to Hermione. "At some point, will you be telling me why on earth you trust Dourif? Dearest, you have to understand that my feelings toward him are not simply a blanket judgement based off of the large file he has at the Auror Department. One of the murders he was accused of was my uncle."

Hermione looked sad. "I hesitate to tell you what I know about that. I fear you'd not believe a bit of it without proof, and other than my word regarding Leland's memories, I can't give you that."

"You're probably right," Minerva agreed. "I'd want proof he could be trusted. But please, Hermione, don't take this whole mess to be indicative that I do not trust _you_. I trust your intentions. I trust your motivations are pure. I trust that you have no ill will towards me. But if I'm being honest, a part of me has a hard time trusting that a man who has duped some of the greatest Aurors of our time could not also deceive you."

"I can respect that," the other woman stated.

"Now, on to other matters," Minerva said crisply. "Shall we discuss the manner in which Harry has come to look at you?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's a child who lost his mother before he was old enough to remember her. He's a boy who was raised by a woman who treated him like dragon dung. He's a teenager who looks at you with the love and admiration of a son. Don't you see that?"

Hermione looked defeated. "I had noticed a change in how he looks at me. I'd rather hoped it was him developing a crush. I don't want to replace Lily. If anyone should be a surrogate mother to Harry it's Molly. I don't want to take his affection away from her, either. She loves him as a son."

"And you don't?"

"I love him, period," Hermione explained. "It's… hard to define. I can't really say it's the love of a friend, or even a brother. It's just… love."

"Well, I've seen that look enough to know what it is," Minerva sighed. "He is beginning to look at you like a mother. The question is if or not you dissuade that, or encourage it."

"It's something I'll need to put some thought into," Hermione assessed. "Sooner, rather than later, I know. I realize the answer will be a major factor in what Christmas looks like this year for him."

"Agreed."

"You'll be there, won't you?" Hermione asked suddenly. "I mean, I know it's still months off, but you'll come for Christmas?"

And once again Minerva was blushing, this time hiding at least some of her cheeks behind her cup of tea as she took a long sip. "Of course," she agreed after a moment. "It's not as if I have any other standing plans, which you very well know. We'll have to go shopping for Harry together."

"That sounds wonderful."

"Well then, it's a date," Minerva said.

Hermione looked at her coyly. "Did you just ask me out, Minerva?"

There was absolutely no hiding the blush on her face this time. "I... of course not, I mean… I don't… not that you're not… I... " Minerva paused in her stuttering as an absolutely insane idea popped into her head. "Did you want it to be?"

The younger witch laughed. "Breathe, Minerva. I'm just teasing. Even if you were, I'd have declined. I have made no secret of my openness sexually, and any fool could see you're a beautiful woman, but it's only been a few months since I lost Salazar, Rowena, and Lucy. My entire family was alive and well one moment, and long dead the next. I'm not certain when, or even if, I'll ever move past that. Dating is the absolute last thing on my mind at this point."

"Of course," Minerva agreed, trying not to show how much Hermione's words stung. "Besides your recent losses, you'd unceremoniously become a mother again, want it or not, and that too takes some adjustment."

"Of course, you're right."

The remainder of the evening - another thirty minutes before Hermione ushered Harry out the door and toward his dorms - was a bit stilted. Conversation drifted back to how Hermione was getting along with the staff, and other Hogwarts related things. Minerva couldn't bring herself to give the by now semi-traditional kiss on the cheek goodbye as she showed Hermione out, rather hugging the woman and sighing in relief once the door had closed again.

"One would think you'd learned your lesson with Amelia," Minerva said to herself. "Falling in love hurts."

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	15. Chapter 15

**And...chapter 15!**

* * *

"Harry Potter," Albus called, sounding rather disbelieving at that particular name coming out of the Goblet of Fire.

Hermione stared at her ward, along with everyone else in the Great Hall. She could feel wild panic rising in her chest, unconsciously reaching for her wand and looking for some attacker to blame for this...this… "Minerva, Harry cannot be allowed to compete!" she hissed at the woman sitting to her left.

Minerva shook her head sadly. "He may have to. The Goblet is a magically binding contract. If his name was submitted, be it by himself or someone else, and then his name was drawn from the Goblet… it's binding."

"What would happen if he refused?" Hermione wanted to know.

"You'd have to ask Barty Crouch to be sure, but I'm fairly sure that he'd get sicker and sicker throughout the competition, and should he fail to take part in the tasks before the end of the final one, he'll die."

"Just bloody great," Hermione huffed. She turned to the resident Potions master. "Severus, do you know a way to break that contract?"

"No," he replied succinctly.

"Leland?" she asked, leaning back, around Minerva, to where her co-Professor was sitting.

"Perhaps, though I suggest we speak to Albus about it before anything else. While it may be favorable for the safety of Potter, Voldemort is obviously not here, which means that one if his agents _is_ , presuming of course that your boy is not stupid enough to have put himself up for this. If we allow Potter to compete, we may be able to draw out whomever the agent is."

"Loathe as I am to admit it," Severus spoke. "I'm inclined to agree with Dourif. If the Dark Lord does have an agent within the walls of the castle, Potter's safety is secondary…"

"IT IS NOT!" Hermione snapped.

"... to discovering the identity of the infiltrator, as he or she could threaten more than just your ward's life," Severus continued, ignoring her. "Further, should our prioritizing Potter over the larger picture result in costing the life of one of the visiting students, it could turn into an international incident."

Just then, Albus nodded toward the four of them - Hermione, Minerva, Severus, and Leland, that was, ushering them to follow he and Harry into the antechamber behind the staff table where the other three champions, and the other two Heads of their respective schools were all waiting. Ludo Bagman scurried along behind the four Professors.

"Vwat is da meaning of dis?" Madam Maxime asked, seeing the dark haired boy being ushered into the room.

"The Goblet of Fire has selected a _fourth_ champion," Albus explained. "Quite irregular, but the Goblet is a magical object of decidedly unknown origin, so I expect that we'll just have to go with it."

"Go with it?" Minerva exclaimed. "GO with it? Are you out of your bloody mind?"

Hermione couldn't help but smirk at Minerva's uncharacteristic use of foul language in the presence of the four students. A deep fondness settled in her chest for the other witch, knowing quite suddenly how fully she was dedicated to Harry's safety. While it was herself whom Harry seemed to be identifying as a mother figure, it was obvious to Hermione that that she wasn't the only woman here who saw him as a son.

"There must be a way to break da enchantment," Karkaroff put in. "The boy somehow fooled the Goblet. For centuries the artifact has submitted three names and three names only. Thus the name _Triwizard Tournament._ Potter cheating is the only explanation."

"Harry, did you put your name into the Goblet?" Albus asked the boy in question.

"No," Harry said quietly.

Hermione elbowed her ward.

"No, sir," Harry corrected himself.

"Did you ask one of the older students to put your name into the Goblet?"

" _No,_ sir," Harry repeated with stronger emphasis.

"If Professor Slytherin would consent, I can probe Potter's mind to ascertain if he's telling the truth," Severus offered, much to Hermione's surprise.

"NO!" Harry exclaimed. "I mean… I _didn't_ do it, but I don't want him messing around in my mind."

"I'm sure your mind is quite the mess without my having invaded it," Severus drawled. "However, if you wish to prove your claim, it's either this or veritaserum. Would you prefer the quick and painless route that includes some measure of privacy, or would you rather take potion that will force you to answer any question asked for at least an hour?"

Harry looked at Hermione for support.

She nodded at him. "I trust you at your word, Harry, but Professor Snape is right. Unless you wish to have the entire school wondering if you're a cheat, it would be best to offer indisputable proof of your innocence. The method used to determine this is your choice."

"Fine," Harry said, glaring at Severus. "Have at it then, sir."

Severus pointed his wand at Harry. " _Legilimens!"_

The investigation only took about a minute, and when Severus pulled away, he looked mildly disappointed. "Potter is telling the truth. He did not submit his name, nor did he have someone over age do it for him. In fact, he's as clueless as I've always known he is."

Ah, well, he had to get at least one jab in.

Harry glared, Severus smirked, and for a moment the room was silent, before Leland broke the pause. "So, is there a way break the enchantment, and more important a question - should we?"

"Explain yourself, Leland," Albus requested.

Leland told Albus and the others the same he'd told Minerva, Severus, and Hermione a few minutes previously. In the end, both Madam Maxime and Professor Karkaroff looked just as sour about things as they'd been at the start, but Albus seemed to be in agreement with Severus and Leland. Even Minerva seemed to be grudgingly coming around to the notion that keeping Harry in the competition for the time being might prove beneficial, though Hermione was still seething at the notion. Of course, as she was Harry's guardian, everyone expected her to be irrational when it came to his protection.

Still, she wasn't above cheating if he had to stay in this blasted situation, and like all of the Professors, she already knew what the First Task was set to be. Harry would have a considerable edge, and she would make sure he knew it ahead of time.

A few hours later, after having gotten permission from Albus, Hermione made her way to Gryffindor Tower with a warm cloak in hand. "Good evening, Nadine," she greeted the portrait of Godric's mother.

"Hermione," Nadine replied. "What brings you here this evening?"

"I've come to fetch Harry," she explained. "It's Halloween. He's never been… you know."

Nadine nodded, offering a sympathetic look. "But, I mean the whole castle is buzzing about it, after what happened at dinner, do you think it's wise to add to Harry's stress like that right now?"

"He needs to see it, now more than ever," Hermione argued. "If he must compete, he needs to grasp the concept of mortality. I'll be helping him along the way, of course, but he's hard to look out for on the best of days. I'll need him to be more careful than he's used to. If Leland is right, then someone put his name in the Goblet for sinister means, and that could just as easily mean that want him off kilter to attack one day between classes as it could mean they want him to be in the midst of the danger the Triwizard Tournament presents on its own."

"I'm sure you know best. Besides, Minerva will be watching Harry as well," Nadine replied. "Also, you and I both know Leland would throw himself in front of a curse before he'd let harm come to a child. Particularly _that_ child."

Hermione smiled knowingly. "Too bad I can't get Minerva to understand that. She's still not convinced Leland isn't going to murder the students in their sleep."

Nadine chuckled. "He's more likely to murder _her_ , with as often as she antagonizes the poor man."

"I'm sure they'll duel it out before the end," the brunette said with a resigned sigh. "Though both are too concerned about their standing with me to risk actually harming each other."

With a nod, Nadine's frame swung out, and after uttering goodbyes, Hermione stepped into the Common Room. Harry and Ron were shouting at each other when she stepped through, though a quick stinging hex to each of their rear ends brought the argument to a halt. "That will be quite enough, gentlemen," she said quietly. "What on earth is the problem?"

"Ron just started shouting at me, saying I need to quit the tournament!" Harry explained angrily. "He doesn't believe me when I say that I _can't_."

"Why not?" Ron demanded. "You like the bloody attention, I'll bet!"

"That's not true!"

Hermione watched, fairly sure that she knew what the root of Ron's problem was, but knowing he needed to be the one to say it, she did not interfere. She could wait a few more minutes before taking Harry out.

"Then what is it?" Ron asked in something of a whimper. "You want to die, like Hermione? You want to leave me here in this mess all alone?"

Harry just stared at his friend for a minute. "Oh, God, Ron, I didn't think."

He rushed forward and pulled his best friend into a tight hug. "It's not that at all," he muttered. "Professor Dourif says that if I don't compete, the Goblet will kill me, because it's a magically binding contract. I have to compete because I _don't_ want to leave you."

Hermione allowed the boys another minute to do the male-bonding thing, before she cleared her throat, getting their attention.

"Sorry, 'Melia," Harry said, blushing. "Forgot you were here."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, turning red. "What are you here for, anyway?"

"I'm afraid I needed to borrow Harry for a few hours," she said. "Harry, please go get a warm cloak. We're going to be outside."

Harry nodded, and dashed up the stairs to the dorms, coming back down a minute later. "So, where are we going?" he finally asked once they'd left Gryffindor Tower."

"You know what today is, don't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Halloween. What of it?"

"Thirteen years ago tonight, you lost your parents," Hermione said quietly. "And you've never seen their graves."

Harry's entire demeanor shifted. "No," he whispered.

"That's where we're going. It's long past time you saw it, and in light of the seriousness of what happened this evening and what that means for you this year, I need you to have a firm grasp on mortality," Hermione explained.

"Great way to make a bad day worse, 'Melia," Harry grumbled.

"You're worried about how you'll manage the tasks?" Hermione asked, mentally grasping her trump card.

"Yeah," he replied. "Fleur, Viktor, and Cedric are years older than me, and know loads more spells. I don't stand a chance!"

Hermione grinned. "I'm fairly sure that, at least for the First Task, you'll do just fine. Better than any of them, if I were to guess."

Harry looked at her, perplexed. "How do you figure that?"

"The First Task is Dragons."

The boy's smile couldn't have gotten any wider.

* * *

 **So, we're back at Hogwarts now. Are you guys interested in seeing more of any particular staff member, or other character? Should I expand on the friendship between Hermione and Rosmerta? Are you wanting to learn more about Leland Dourif? Are you interested in seeing Cyrus Prince again? Do you think Hermione is ready to face off with the Malfoys? PLEASE REVIEW!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Just a quick update on my progress for plotting this story out, beginning to end: At this juncture, I'm looking at a total of probably almost 170 chapters, though that will be split into a Trilogy, about 56 chapters each. This part of the trilogy, "Telling Time" will conclude at the end of Harry's Fifth Year. It will pick up with (working titles) Making Time, covering Sixth Year, and then Saving Time, which will conclude at about the same time that Deathly Hallows concluded. Mind you, after this part, the story will start to be more and more A/U, as Hermione's effect on the timeline will change a lot of what we consider cannon basics. Anyway, I'm estimating this will take me a year to write (the whole thing, I mean), presuming the lovely Cherrii Marina keeps up my arse and I give you all an update on average, every other day. *smacks forehead* What have I gotten myself into?**

* * *

Minerva was nursing a glass of brandy when Hermione barged into her quarters the evening before the First Task. It was the end of November, and getting cold and the roaring fire and nip of alcohol had been her plan for staying warm. That plan, however, seemed to be something of little interest to Hermione, who pulled Minerva's warmest cloak off the hook by the door and offered it to the Scottish woman.

"Well come on, then!" Hermione said excitedly.

"Pray tell, where?"

"I want you to meet someone," the other woman explained, tossing the cloak towards the Scottish witch, who caught it just in time to prevent it from knocking over her glass, which she'd proactively set on the coffee table.

"Dare I ask whom?" Minerva asked, accepting that she was going, like it or not, and standing to put her cloak on, glass of brandy certainly not forgotten. She'd drink it after.

"Cyrus Prince. He's the Head of the Romanian Dragon Preserve. He came over with Charlie Weasley and the dragons for tomorrow's task."

"Ah, Severus' grandfather." Minerva had never met the Head of the Prince family, though Severus spoke of him now and then. They were not on great terms, though there was no real hatred between them either. Severus speculated that he was just sore that of his two daughters, the one who had a child was the one who off and married a muggle, meaning that his only possible heir after his elder daughter, who Minerva knew was still kicking around and causing trouble, was Severus. The half-blood.

Hermione looked startled. "Severus has a grandfather?"

"Well," Minerva said with an amused look. "Someone had to have sired his mother, may she rest in peace."

"His mum is dead?"

"Yes. Eileen died a few months before Severus graduated from Hogwarts. And before you ask, his father is a muggle and Severus gets angry any time I ask about him, so I haven't a clue if he's still alive, or if he's passed on," Minerva related. "Further, Severus was an only child. He does have an aunt, Annabeth, who is older than me and makes his snark seem tame."

"Well then," Hermione chuckled.

"So, what of Mister Prince? I've never made his acquaintance. "And why are we not waiting till the sun comes up to go see him?"

"They're having a bit of an issue getting the dragons to calm down, so Cyrus sent a Patronus asking if I could help. He's a good man. Humble. Excitable. Severus and his Aunt must have gotten their demeanour from Cyrus' wife."

Minerva sighed. "Oh, well. Best we're off then, I suppose."

"Didn't I say that when I arrived?"

"Yes, but you did not offer any explanation as to why," Minerva countered. "You might have said 'Dragons arrived, the handlers could use a hand, would you join me?' rather than just about knocking over a perfectly good glass of brandy."

Fifteen minutes later, the two women were approaching the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and ten minutes after that they could hear the roar of four very unsettled dragons. "Here we are," Hermione said happily.

"Well, at the least I can scratch _see dragon up close_ off my bucket list," the other witch said, smiling.

"We'll have to talk about your bucket list sometime," Hermione replied, looking amused. "I'd love to compare yours to mine, see what we both want and then perhaps knock some of those items off together."

Minerva's heart thudded. Sometimes Hermione said things that sounded like _stay away from any romantic ideas_ and other times she said things that might have well been phrased _let's shag_. It was maddening, the mixed signals. Minerva had reconciled at this point that she was attracted to and interested in Hermione as more that a friend, but Hermione seemed to be unsure of her own position on the matter. At some point, she knew they'd have to talk about it. Minerva could only hope that if Hermione was leaning toward not wanting a romantic relationship, that conversation did not cost them the friendship they'd built.

Seldom did the Scottish woman let people get close to her, which of course meant that she didn't have many friends whom she felt she could confide in. This, obviously, put her in a stressful position at moments like this, when she really wished she had someone she could talk to regarding her feelings for Hermione. Perhaps she'd have tea with Molly, though she hated to impose on the busy mother. There was also Rosmerta. That might actually be ideal. It had been far too long since she'd visited the proprietress of the Three Broomsticks.

Minerva's attention was drawn back to her present situation when an older man started waving at them. She took in his appearance, noting onyx eyes that Severus had inherited, though despite his advanced age, he had twice the life in them as his grandson did. In fairness, Lord Prince was noted for being neutral during times of conflict in the wizarding world. Grindelwald and Voldemort had both tried to recruit him, and his dragons, but he'd been reported to have stated that his allegiance was with the Reserve, and with his family. None others.

Cyrus Prince was tall, and proud looking. Obviously of pureblood stock with his pale, aristocratic skin and sharp features. It was a wonder that he'd not burned to the point of deformity with the amount of sun and fire he exposed his skin to, Minerva mused. His age did show, though. His back arched forward a bit, and he seemed to be favoring his left leg over his right, hardly bending the knee in the latter.

"Cyrus," Hermione greeted. "This is Minerva McGonagall, I hope you don't mind I've brought her along."

"Of course not, Madam Slytherin," he said, offering a bow.

" _Hermione_ will do fine," the woman in question instructed. "Minerva is well aware of my origins."

"Well then, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at long last, Professor," Cyrus said, looking at Minerva. "I had the pleasure of knowing your mother. We were at school together. Wonderful girl, Isobel."

"Just _Minerva_ is fine, sir," Minerva replied, feeling unusually young in the presence of someone who'd known her mum. The Scottish woman remembered, vaguely, that Cyrus' younger daughter Eileen had been an older student when she'd first come to Hogwarts. A fifth year Prefect, if memory served.

"You two catch up," Hermione said. "I'm going to go soothe some dragons. They're probably just wondering where they are and why. Honestly Cyrus, you should have brought them several days ago so they had a chance to adjust."

"I wanted to," the elderly man said. "But your Mister Crouch insisted on tonight, citing that he didn't want the children exposed to dragons any longer than necessary for the task. That said, I'm fairly sure that he knew they'd be stressed, and that it would agitate them, thereby making for a better _show_ tomorrow."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and went toward the beasts making what Minerva assumed were calming hissing sounds. She, meanwhile, turned back to Cyrus. "I know you think she's doing you a favor, but you made her night with this. She seldom has a chance to use Parseltongue in the present."

Cyrus nodded. "She's an incredible woman of many talents, be it in the present or a thousand years ago."

Minerva's animagus hearing picked up the sound of a cracking stick but given that the presence of the dragons were likely causing many animals to flee the area, she didn't pause to worry that it was someone wanting to attack them. "It still boggles the mind. I mean, she told me the day she arrived, but…"

"The wife of Salazar Slytherin in the flesh?" Cyrus said, looking amused. "I understand your feeling. I remember thinking it a silly old tradition based only on myth when being told by my father when I came of age, about the _Lex Excetra_ \- Serpent Accord, that is. It was brilliantly designed, I must say. As pureblood children come of age, there's a ceremony that includes something that I believe was a precursor to the Unbreakable Vow. If Hermione were to come to us for help and we denied her, we and any in our bloodline are rendered sterile. This way, a family who'd denied her would not be allowed to continue."

"I wonder why my mother never told me," Minerva wondered. "I mean, the McGonagalls are an old family - muggle however - but the Ross family were older, and branched off from the Dumbledores some seven hundred years ago. There's no reason my mother's family wouldn't have been included in this _Lex Excetra_."

"I imagine your mother knew," Cyrus said thoughtfully. "But, and I say this with all due respect, you are a half-blood. The tradition was not yours to carry."

Minerva refrained from grumbling at him. _Purebloods_ , she thought. _Bloody idiots._ "Well, with that mindset, it's a wonder that the legacy survived to the present at all," she said tactfully.

Cyrus offered an amused snort. "Quite. My own wife was muggleborn, and I have passed on the _Lex Excetra_ to both of our daughters, damn tradition. That said, I did know your mother, and despite her love for Robert, she did still place value in the traditions of her birthright. She felt very conflicted in her choice to marry Robert."

Hermione returned a moment after that was said, saving poor Cyrus from a tongue lashing, as Minerva had found his last remark rather insulting. _How dare that hypocritical bastard insinuate that her mother had regretted the family she built!_

"They're calm," the younger witch reported. "And as it is rather late and we have quite the day tomorrow, I think it best we say goodnight."

"Of course," Cyrus agreed, offering a slight bow. "I think you kindly for your help this evening, and wish that you should rest well."

He was rewarded with a smile from Hermione for his parting words, though Minerva just offered a stiff nod in return.

Minerva's expression was still stiff the next afternoon, jaw set as she watched Harry face off with a very irritated Hungarian Horntail. Given Harry's use of Parseltongue, the First Task had started out with what appeared to be a pleasant chat between he and the dragon, but as soon as he had started making for the Golden Egg, she had reared, howled as if feeling a great betrayal, and for a moment Hermione's grip on her hand had nearly cut circulation off when flames spewed out of the Horntail's great jaws, and behind the wake of the fire they'd been unable to tell if Harry had managed to clear the explosion.

Now, Harry seemed to be trying to calm her and the whole damned event was started to look like an odd sort of lover's tift. Harry's hissing echoed in the stadium as if they were in a great cathedral, and the dragon's roars rose above the audience, the stench of the hot breath seeming to rain down on them like volcanic ash. Minerva resisted the urge to cast a bubble head charm, despite noticing many others having already done so.

"Sweet Merlin," Hermione whispered.

"I take it back," Severus Snape said beside them. "Potter has no place in this competition, strategic advantage be damned."

"He's still okay," Hermione muttered, placing a hand on his knee. "Though if you don't take that back, I'll start to believe you've started to care for the boy."

"For him?" Severus spat. "Never."

Minerva chuckled, wondering briefly why, if Severus hated Harry so very much, he seemed interested in his well being. When he'd been a student, there had been speculations that there was romance blooming between he and Lily Evans during their fourth and fifth years, though suddenly they didn't even talk anymore, when once they'd been the best of friends. Lily had obviously moved on to James, but Severus had never married and had a family. It occurred to her that perhaps, after all this time, Severus still carried the torch for Lily, and honored her memory by looking out for her son. Harry needed a positive male role model, and Minerva was suddenly wondering if that role model could be Severus. She quietly voiced her idea to Hermione.

"Severus would need to get over his hatred for Harry first," Hermione whispered. "Though Harry could do worse than him for a father figure, should that ever actually happen. Despite his having the emotional range of a teaspoon, Severus is a good man."

"What are you two talking about?" the man in question asked suspiciously.

"Nothing!" they lied in union.

Moments later Harry summoned his broom, and it came flying into the stadium and right into his waiting hand. He'd evidently decided to resort to other talents as a means to beat the dragon and capture the egg, and this strategy worked splendidly. Within five minutes, he'd both completed the task and safely cleared the reach of the dragon.

The crowd went wild.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	17. Chapter 17

**HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE! Enjoy an update!**

* * *

It was the beginning of December, and in the wake of a spectacular First Task, the media was even more interested than they'd been at the start. Albus had warned Hermione about one particular reporter, one Rita Skeeter; a woman known for her love of gossip and lack of scruples. As Albus had expected, the _Daily Prophet_ employee had wasted absolutely no time in setting her sights on the youngest contestant of the event. Harry had shown up in Hermione's quarters last evening, ranting and raving for nearly an hour about the reporter and her _bloody quick quotes quill._

Rita's mistake came less than twelve hours after Harry had come complaining to his godmother, the woman with the horn rimmed glasses has decided that the woman with a Founder's name would make nearly as good a story. Harry, in his inexperience, may have panicked under pressure, but Hermione Jean Slytherin was not lacking in that quality.

"Professor Slytherin!"

Hermione had already had a vivid description of Rita Skeeter from Harry, so she pretended not to see the approaching reporter, favoring to turn in another direction. Rita, however, was having none of being ignored.

"Excuse me!" she exclaimed. "I was wondering if I could ask you some questions regarding how it feels to return to the school you helped build!"

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, fingers twitching as she awaited Rita's approach, ready for a prey that had no idea they were walking into a lion's den.

Ten paces.

Five.

Two.

Rita's face was suitably fearful when Hermione turned abruptly, the point of her wand landing right about where her heart might be. A point blank stunner would be all Hermione had to do, and Rita's coworkers would probably writing her obituary in the morning. She remained very still, attempted to laugh off the severity of her situation. "No need for that," she said. "I just wanted to talk."

"Who told you who I am?" Hermione demanded, pushing a bit, causing a small burn on Rita's coat as sparks shot out the end.

"Oh," the other woman said nonchalantly. "Some pureblood. I can't really recall which one. They're all positively buzzing over your return. Where have you been all these years? How have you stayed alive and young? Do you have a sorcerer's stone, or have you discovered some other means to retain your youth over the course of one thousand years?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, taking some measure of comfort in how - if the vein of Rita's questioning was anything to go by - the woman only seemed to know half of the equation. The name _Granger_ had not been whispered to her yet, and that was something. _Still_ , Hermione mused, Rita would have to be dealt with. It was bad enough that most of the major Pureblood families knew how she'd really come by the name _Slytherin_ , though there was still plenty of power in families that were not as old monied as the likes of the Princes, Dumbledores, and Malfoys.

"Ms. Skeeter," Hermione said sternly. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Which would you prefer?"

"Are you going to tell me what the easy and hard ways look like?" Rita asked, offering a half-hearted smirk. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't hold my own."

"Well, the easy way is that I obliviate all the knowledge you happen to have about me and my ward," Hermione explained, pulling her wand back slightly, as if preparing to cast said spell. "That said, I've never _actually_ cast that spell - I've read all about it, though - so I may _accidentally_ obliviate a whole...lot...more."

Rita shuddered slightly.

"The hard way involves you meeting a friend of mine."

Hermione pulled her wand back and cast a messenger Patronus. Her mist Otter quickly scampered off to Romania with a message for Cyrus, giving him forewarning that she may be along in a bit with a guest. "The choice is yours," she said, turning her wand back on Rita.

"Hard way sounds a bit less risky, if you ask me," the other witch said smugly. "I think you underestimate the amount of blackmail material I've collected over the years. There's very few witches and wizards in Europe who would dare to cross me."

Hermione let out a small chuckle that Rita would later decide filled her with more fear than the notion of facing down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ever had. "So are you favoring the _hard_ way, then?"

Well placed fear didn't really grasp the reporter until it was far too late. "Yes," she said, crossing her arms. "Wife of a founder or not, you're just a witch who from what the Purebloods say, is nothing particularly special outside of the notable personal history."

"As you say," Hermione replied, pulled a hair tie out of her robe pocket and handing it to Rita before laying a hand on the wrist Rita placed it around. " _Caecus Portus_."

A few seconds later, the pair were landing gently on the ground in the middle of the Romanian Dragon Preserve, the location which Hermione's Patronus had requested that Cyrus clear of all Dragon Handlers. As per her instruction, there was nobody there, save for the Russian Ridgeback Dragon that Hermione had met the last time she'd been here. She was a nesting mother, so particularly cranky, not that she needed that element to be a subject of fear. She was one of the largest breeds in the world, a light tan specimen with red eyes, and a black ridge that ran from snout to tail. Technically considered an albino with as light as she was, she was perhaps not only the largest on the Preserve, but one of the most temperamental even when she wasn't nesting.

If Rita had any sense at all and any knowledge of Dragons, she was probably on the verge of pissing herself. Hermione had Portkeyed them directly into the Ridgeback's enclosure, and there wasn't a handler around to rescue the reporter. The only thing that stood between life and death for Rita Skeeter was a woman who obviously disliked her immensely. "Are you barking mad!?" Rita exclaimed. "Russian Ridgebacks are known for _eating_ people!"

"That they are," Hermione agreed. She turned to the Dragon in question and hissed a request, and a moment later, her snout - easily twice as long as she and Rita together were tall - was right in the reporter's face, smoke wisping out of each nostril. "Ms. Skeeter, this is my friend Viola. She'd like to feed you to her offspring, due to hatch any day, you see. I've told her not to for the moment, but…"

"I'll keep away from you and Potter," Rita said in a hurried, squeaky voice.

"And?"

"And I won't write a thing about either of you unless you give the say so," Rita added hastily.

Hermione hissed a farewell to Viola, and then cast the activation key on the Portkeyed hair tie, and a moment later they were right back where they started. "I thank you for your cooperation," Hermione said sweetly.

"You're evil," Rita stated hotly.

"I'm the wife of Salazar Slytherin," Hermione countered. "Did you expect me to be some tame kitten?"

"The purebloods say you're good."

"They owe a debt. Given their cooperation in the payment of that, they have nothing to fear for me," Hermione explained. "However, they too would find me a worthy adversary should they chose to cross me."

"I know there's more you're hiding," Rita accused.

"Speculate all you wish, Ms. Skeeter," Hermione said with a shrug. "I have many secrets, my interest in Harry being one of many. I'm sure you've already followed the paper trail that proves that I only married Sirius Black a few months ago."

"Yes," Rita admitted. "Obviously to gain custody of Potter. I just don't know why."

"And the day I find you've discovered the truth is the day that I let Viola eat you," Hermione countered. "You must know that she only stays at the preserve because I asked her to. Cyrus and his men used to deal with her escaping on a monthly basis. All I need to do is send her a Patronus, and she'd be at your doorstep in a matter of hours. She does know your scent, now."

"I don't believe that will be necessary," Rita vowed begrudgingly.

"Glad to hear it."

With a curt nod, Rita stepped away, and Hermione turned the opposite direction back towards the Great Hall. She halted upon turning around the first corner, nearly running into her ward.

"Sorry 'Melia," he muttered, looking sheepish. "Should have been looking where I was going. Upside, I was looking for you."

Hermione smiled at Harry. "What did you need?"

"Well… there's this girl…"

She laughed a little. "Oh boy. Which young lady has caught your interest, young man?"

"Her name is Cho," Harry said, blushing. "Fifth year Ravenclaw.. Really sweet, though a bit shy. She doesn't look at me like the Hero of the Wizarding world. She just sees me… Harry. It's nice. She's nice."

"And pretty," Hermione commented slyly.

"Yeah, that doesn't hurt either."

"So, what about Miss Chang?"

"I want to ask her to the Yule Ball, but I'm afraid she'll laugh at me because I'm younger than her." Harry admitted with a frown. "And I know she kinda likes Cedric, though she told me she doubts he sees her as a potential girlfriend, because _she's_ younger than _him._ It's all a bit mad."

"So what if she does laugh at you?" Hermione asked. "What would that mean?"

Harry looked thoughtful. "I guess it would mean that she's not the girl I think she is. She's always kind to others. Not cruel at all."

"By which case that if she said no, you'd learn something valuable, probably dissuading your interest in her and thereby making the point moot," Hermione agreed.

"But what if she _doesn't_ laugh, but still says no?" Harry wanted to know. "I mean, I don't want to make things weird. Even if she's not interested in me that way, I do want to still be her friend."

"It's a risk," she replied. "Most things in life are. The real question you have to ask yourself is if you value your friendship too much to take the risk. If she should discontinue your friendship, would you still have a support system to fall back on?"

Harry grinned. "Well, I'll always have Ron. I mean, he's my best mate. I'd go spare without him."

Hermione nodded. "So, is the potential of a romance with Miss Chang worth the risk of losing the relationship you have, or no?"

The boy thought for a minute, and then shook his head. "I'll go find her right now," he said firmly. "I don't want to lose her, but I think it would hurt more if I lose her because I waited too long to ask, and some other bloke did first."

"That's the spirit, Harry," Hermione said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Go on then."

Harry bolted away, and Hermione continued her path to the Great Hall, ready for the lunch she knew was about to start. She smiled brightly when she saw Minerva waving at her from the dais, and her advice to Harry came back to mind.

She couldn't deny her growing feelings for the Scottish woman. Minerva had become her rock, her comforter, and protector, and much like Harry felt for Ron, she knew she'd be going spare without her former Professor's support. It was an issue she'd be trying to set on the back burner, but as she saw Minerva chatting happily with Rolanda Hooch, she wondered if she was running the risk of waiting too long to pursue what her own heart was telling her.

Hermione made her way to the Head Table. "I see my seat has been taken," she said jovially to Minerva, referencing how Rolanda was in the chair she usually occupied over meals.

Rolanda grinned. "Min was just giving me crap about how long it's been since I had a date."

"Like she's any better?" Hermione joked.

"Ha, bloody, ha," Minerva grumbled. "Move your fat arse, Ro. Professor Slytherin and I have important business to attend to."

Rolanda obliged, not taking offence to the jibe. Between the three of them, she was, in fact, probably the most fit. Playing Quidditch all the time would do that to a woman. "Business, huh? Bet the first order of business is debating some stupid Transfiguration article."

Hermione smirked. "Of course. Minerva, did you get a chance to read that briefing from the Ministry regarding the research for how to achieve a secondary Animagus form? Do you think the theory is sound - that a second form would be a magical creature?"

"I hate you both," Rolanda said, rolling her eyes. "I gotta get to the pitch anyway. Just came up to get some food to go. Catch you insufferable know-it-alls later."

Hermione squeezed Minerva's hand under the table, earning a surprised look from the Scottish woman, followed by a gentle smile which told Hermione all that she needed to know. Minerva _was_ interested. It was only a matter of time, now, before cards were laid on the table.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	18. Chapter 18

**This chapter is dedicated to SassyKinglet21. She knows why. All hail bestie-ship! Also, double Happy Easter! Very Happy, as you'll figure out shortly.**

* * *

Minerva McGonagall hated Christmas. She hated the bells and whistles that Albus said _must_ be included; the massive tree that only Hagrid could carry - Merlin forbid Rubeus ever die - the decorations, the enchanted bloody music, the endless meetings about how to make things… merrier.

She also hated how so damn alone she always was. The occasional student would gift her

something, and Albus made staff gifting mandatory, going so far as to adding one hundred galleons to the pay period before Christmas' Gringotts draft as to ensure that each staff member could afford to get their coworkers nice gifts. Outside of Hogwarts, Minerva usually got a bottle of Firewhisky from Rosmerta, and a tin of Ginger Newts from Aberforth, though Minerva suspected that Albus was behind the latter.

Otherwise, nothing. There was no special someone, and hadn't been since Amelia. She'd dated a bit between then and now, but nothing that had gotten serious enough to warrant spending Christmas together. Minerva's family was long gone, killed in wars now over and done, but leaving her absent of the things that made a holiday worth celebrating.

"Minerva!"

The woman in question groaned. "What _now_ Albus?"

The Headmaster smiled as he walked up to his long time friend. "Nothing of import, I was just wondering if your dance card for this evening was already filled, or if I could put myself in for a spin."

Minerva guffawed. "You'll get your dance. You know damn well my dance card, as usual, is perfectly empty."

"Hummm," he uttered. "I thought perhaps this year was going to be a bit different. After all, you have Hermione now."

"I do not _have_ Hermione," Minerva replied, eyebrows furrowing. Of course, he would just rub the salt in the wound a little bit more. Tosser. "We are merely friends, despite an obviously mutual attraction. She is not prepared to move forward with her life, and I respect that. It's been less than a year since she lost her family."

"Perhaps some Christmas magic will help things along," he suggested.

"I don't believe in such things," the Scottish woman said haughtily. "Christmas magic, indeed!"

Albus looked positively affronted. "But...but you're a _witch_!"

Minerva chuckled. "That I am, and yet there are limits to what magic, true magic, can do. As much as I wish I could, I cannot simply magic away her grief."

"Perhaps," he said thoughtfully, "you already have, but you don't know it yet."

With an encouraging smile, he bid her farewell and took the corridor heading towards the Head Tower, whereas she went the direction of her own quarters, knowing it was about time to start getting dressed for the Yule Ball. She _had_ been planning on wearing her usual formal witch's robe, despite it being probably a decade out of date, but with Hermione in mind she considered an alternate.

Last year for Christmas, Rolanda had gifted her with a beautiful, formal dress, albeit muggle in style. It was dark green, almost black. It fastened behind her neck with a bejeweled halter, leaving her back fully exposed. The fabric encased her breasts neatly, and then wrapped around her waist in a very forgiving way, showing but not over-showing the curve of her hips, before the fabric billowed out in a floor length, airy train. The fabric was actually several layers of sheer over a silk underlayer of the same color, offering easy movement and comfort.

Or so said Rolanda's sales pitch when Minerva had opened the thing. She'd never actually tried it on. Perhaps tonight was the night for it. After all, even if Hermione didn't notice, watching half the male population at Hogwarts with their jaws dropped the moment they realize that their stuffy old Transfiguration Professor was actually an attractive woman would be worth it.

Two hours later, and several internal debates on if or not this perfectly fitting dress was appropriate for a school function. Yes. No. Yes. No. Hermione. No. No. Yes. No. Okay, fine, blast it all! Minerva walked out the door of her quarters with a huff, heart thudding as she entered the Great Hall fifteen minutes later. She internally congratulated her good sense to at least wear flats after the third staircase.

The first thing Minerva noticed when she walked into the room, already filling with people, was the back of a woman with gentle curves, wearing in Ravenclaw blue dress that, while giving off the impression of being nothing more than fabric hanging off either shoulder loosely, still clung to her body as if the fabric had been tailored just for that figure. Minerva took solace in that she was not the only person wearing a muggle dress.

Then, the woman she'd been staring at turned around, and Minerva's breath hitched. "Hermione," she murmured lowly, not wanting to be overheard, nor wanting to call Hermione _Amelia_. It just felt wrong somehow. "You look beautiful."

Her eyes flickered down at the very low scoop neckline, ample cleavage on full display, before she looked back at Hermione's face to see a smirk of amusement. "You look rather grand this evening, yourself," she repled. "Though I thought you were planning to wear formal robes. I had resigned myself to being the only staff member the young men would be eyeing this evening. With you on my arm, I imagine the young ladies will be looking as well."

"Don't tempt me to go change," Minerva jested.

At that moment, one of the Durmstrang boys decked a Gryffindor boy, probably over a girl. Minerva had to go attend to that, and by the time she returned she found Hermione preoccupied in an effort to console Ron, who seemed sore that Harry had managed to find a date - Cho Chang of Ravenclaw, Minerva noted - and he had come stag. After that, it had been Minerva again who was elsewise occupied, this time by Albus calling in his slot on her dance card. Then, Hermione had been dancing with Harry, and then two dances with Ron to make up for his lack of partner to go back to, and so it was well into the evening before Minerva finally managed to catch her colleague by the wrist, spinning the time-traveler into her arms just as a slow waltz began playing.

"I was beginning to think I wouldn't get to dance with you," Hermione commented, slipping easily into the female role of this particular dance. "Which would have been a tragedy."

"I was half expecting you to slap me and run off," Minerva joked. "I didn't exactly _ask_ you to dance. I more or less dragged you into it."

"You rescued me from confronting the Weasley twins about spiking the punch," Hermione countered. "See, now Severus has to do it. It'll blow the rest of his evening, assigning Merlin knows how much detention for the infraction and all."

"Not sure who I feel worse for," the Scottish woman chuckled. "Severus or Fred and George."

Hermione sighed, and nestled her face against Minerva's shoulder, dancing on instinct, obviously well practiced enough to not need to watch where she was stepping. Later, Hermione would admit that following Minerva's lead was simply the most natural thing in the world, and in reality, she'd only had a few lessons as a child, before coming to Hogwarts in the first place.

Then, the dance was over, and when Hermione pulled back, Minerva noticed her cheeks were a bit flushed. "Too hot in here?" she inquired.

Hermione shrugged. "Probably not, but I went from dancing with Albus, to dancing with Harry, to dancing with Ron - twice - to dancing with you. I've had quite the workout. It's a wonder I'm not drenched in sweat."

"How about we walk you out to the balcony in the staff room," Minerva offered. "Get you some air?"

"Sounds wonderful."

They stopped by the refreshments table on the way, each getting a small glass of water to ward off dehydration, and then made for the corridor which led back to staff room. There were enough faculty members at the Yule Ball to not need to inform anyone of their leaving. It would just be for a few minutes, anyway.

The staff room's balcony had been added after the time of the Founders, by Headmaster Dippet, who enjoyed cigars, and during staff meetings was regularly chastised for filling the room with smoke. It had a beautiful view, and Hermione had more than once commented on liking the addition. Tonight, it was abandoned and peaceful, and unlike the rest of the castle, was only minimally decorated.

Minerva and Hermione stood there for a few minutes in silence, enjoying the night air. Hermione stretched, arms rising above her head, and then she stopped, arms falling, though she was still looking up.

"What are you looking at?" Minerva asked, eyeing the lithe form before her.

"Mistletoe."

"Ah," Minerva said, only half listening.

"Minerva?"

"Yes?"

"We're standing under mistletoe."

When Minerva managed to move her eyes back up to Hermione's face a moment later, she saw brown eyes dancing in the flickering torch light, and a soft smile on her companion's face. "Oh my," she whispered, gulping when Hermione took a step closer to her.

Was this really, _finally_ happening?

"You know what that means, don't you?" Hermione asked, dragging her fingers from Minerva's hip, up her side, to just below her breast.

"No idea," Minerva breathed.

"How's about we don't play?" Hermione asked softly. "I've seen the way you look at me. I know you're not the kind of woman who does casual when it comes to romance. I know you've been waiting for me to be ready - a fact that only makes me care for you more."

"If we do this," the Scottish woman whispered, "There will be no going back. I can't pretend we're only friends if you kiss me, and then decide you're still not ready. I'm not _her_."

"I know," Hermione replied. "Nor are you _him_ , obviously. Much prettier, for one thing, though you could probably go neck and neck temper wise. At least you have the excuse of being Scottish. He was just a spoilt brat sometimes."

Minerva chuckled. "So… enough of them. They are a part of you, and I'll never ask you to forget it. They gave you a life. They helped you come home to me. But you've said yourself that you weren't in love with Rowena or Salazar. I won't lie - I'm already head over heels in love with _you._ I'm not expecting you to be there yet…"

"I am."

Minerva's heart nearly stopped. "You are?"

"Yes," Hermione said, voice cracking with emotion. "A part of me feels guilty about it - to be letting go of them so quickly, because you've made it so easy. It has been so bloody easy to fall in love with you. Sometimes you smile at me, and I can't even breathe."

That was more than enough talk as far as Minerva was concerned. She lunged the rest of the way forward, pulling Hermione close as their lips crashed together. Lips melded, tongues battled, and teeth nipped. For a moment, Minerva felt like they had become one person, not knowing where she ended and Hermione began, and utterly floored at how in sync their movements were.

The kiss only lasted, in reality, a few minutes, though it seemed so much longer. When they parted, both women were panting, but smiling all the same. "I love you," Minerva uttered.

"And I love you," Hermione replied, leaning forward again and allowing her companion's slender, pale arms to wrap securely around her body.

* * *

 **Thank you all for your patience as I evolved Hermione and Minerva as characters prior to getting to this moment. I hope it was worth the 40,000 word wait. You guys are all awesome! PLEASE REVIEW!**


	19. Chapter 19

**I don't advise reading this chapter half asleep. It not only brings to light a major plot point, but it hints at two others. Feel free to guess at the hinty ones, but I shant be telling you if you're right or wrong. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Slytherin!"

Leland's voice rang down the corridor, causing Hermione to stop short, turning to face her fellow Defense Professor. His tone was unusually urgent, making her apprehensive of what he may be wanting. "Yes, Leland? And I've told you a million times, you can just call me by my name."

"Call you what? Amelia?" Leland asked, looking a bit amused. "I'd never address _you_ in such a false way. As to your true name, I dare not speak it out loud. Someone is always listening, you know. I am honestly a bit baffled at why you share your true name with so many people. Particularly the Gryffindors. Worst of all, Albus. It is a danger to you, my lady."

"I appreciate your concern, but I doubt that chastising me about the Gryffindors I've confided in - I'll remind you that I myself am a Gryffindor, by the way - was your intent when seeking me out."

"Of course not," he replied. "Thought you might want to see this."

This, as it turned out, was a Dark Mark on his arm, which had grown much darker since she'd last seen it. "What does it mean?" she whispered. "Is _he_ growing in power himself, or does it just darken as the black arts become more readily practiced?"

"Oh, it's him alright," Leland sighed. "He is growing in power, and quickly. It wasn't this dark yesterday. I only noticed a few minutes ago when Alastor caught me in the washroom with my sleeve rolled up, saw it, and completely freaked. I came one poorly aimed slashing hex from losing my bloody arm. Bloody tosser."

"Moody really does have it out for you, doesn't he?" Hermione said, chuckling a bit.

"Only because I'm the one who got away. He wanted to see me in Azkaban so badly, but the Aurors didn't have enough evidence. Obviously, he's still sore about it," Leland said ruefully.

"Sounds a bit like a lovers' quarrel," Hermione commented.

Leland offered a rare laugh. "Anything but. There is nothing but hate between us, and not even a history of a good shag to make putting up with his shite worth it."

Just then, the ghostly figure of Helena Ravenclaw came floating toward them. "I would speak with you, Professor Slytherin," she stated.

"It seems I'm needed," Hermione said, sighing. "Was that all, Leland?"

"Yes. I'll see you at dinner, then," he replied.

Hermione turned her attention to Helena, mentally chastising herself for not seeking out the Ravenclaw Ghost sooner. The way the woman had looked at her all through the staff meeting in September had seemed to indicate Helena did, in fact, know who she was, a fact which Hermione absolutely needed to address. As much as she wanted to think well of her lover's daughter, she needed to find out where the ghost's allegiances lay.

"Do you know who I am, really?" she asked bluntly.

Helena nodded. "You are Hermione Slytherin, formerly Granger, a muggleborn witch who traveled through time to the distant past, and eventually married Salazar, having a daughter with him, named Lucy."

Hermione sighed. She knew everything then.

"Further, just prior to leaving for what you consider the present, your lover of many years fell pregnant with your child. She chose not to tell you, knowing you had to leave, and not wanting to make it harder on you," Helena added softly.

What had been an easy walk Hermione was taking as Helena floated beside her came to a dead halt. "What?" she choked out, heart thundering. "You can't be saying…"

"I've waited, so many years, to meet you," the dark haired young woman said, stopping beside her. "Mother."

"Oh, gods," Hermione gasped, leaning on a wall for support.

Helena was her daughter. Helena was long dead, leaving the mortal realm years before her time, possibly because she'd only had one parent there to protect her. Rowena - bugger that _stubborn_ woman! - had known she was pregnant, and kept it a secret till it was too late. Helena was a ghost because… not to haunt the Baron… but because she'd known that in time, she could meet her Mother.

Hermione had never felt more guilty in her life, and that included the horrid guilt she'd felt upon leaving Salazar and Lucy. Had she known there was a baby on the way… "I am so, so sorry, Helena," she whispered. "I didn't know."

"I am aware of this. Mum made sure I knew it - that I blamed her, not you," Helena tried to comfort. "I did not bring this up to make you feel guilty, but because while she made a choice to keep my conception a secret till you'd gone, it is now our choice to be what we should have been all those years ago. A mother, and a daughter. A second chance."

"I'd like that," Hermione said, looking carefully at the child she'd missed the chance to see grow up. "I'd like that very much."

"Am I permitted in your quarters?" Helena asked. "Obviously, it wouldn't do for others to become aware of our… relation."

"You're welcome anytime, Helena," Hermione assured her.

"When we speak, might I call you _Mother_ , or would you prefer the formal title?" The ghost asked shyly.

For a moment, Hermione saw a glimpse of the child Helena had been, raised under Rowena's watchful eye. It was despairing to think that her daughter had died so young, but on the other hand, Hermione couldn't help but feel grateful she had. If not for the untimely demise, Helena would likely have passed the veil in totality, and Hermione would never have known she'd had a second daughter. "You are my _daughter_ , Helena," she whispered. "My flesh and blood and despite the fact that I cannot claim to know you well at this point… know that I would have loved you. That I _do_ love you. And I'd be honored if you called me _Mother_. I'm not sure I deserve it, but if that's your wish, please feel free."

Hours later Hermione was still in a daze from her conversation with Helena. She was reflecting on the first few months when she'd been in past, and how she'd accepted that it could take years to get herself back to her proper time, and that there was a real chance she'd never have a family. Then, she'd gotten pregnant with Lucy. While not in love with Salazar or Rowena, having Lucy had offered Hermione some measure of comfort over the loss of the world she should have grown up in. Then, she'd come back, and before she'd even had a chance to mourn the daughter that she'd watch grow from babe to new wife of a fine young man, she'd been given responsibility over Harry.

Raising a boy was a far cry from raising a girl, though Godric had been plenty of practice on how to manage _boys_. If one counted Sirius, she had two boys in her care, though the one she was technically wed to managed well enough without her, most of the time. As if on cue, Hermione saw a mop of dark hair walking toward her on lanky limbs and a torso that was starting to build muscles. She cleared her throat. "What can I do for you, Harry?"

He grunted. "Had another row with Ron."

"Another?" Hermione asked, frowning. "I wasn't aware you'd had a row at all."

"He's actually been a royal jerk for weeks," Harry admitted. "I didn't want to say anything… I know you're busy."

"I'm never too busy for you, dear boy," Hermione insisted, ushering him into her quarters. "What exactly started things?"

Harry huffed as he sat down on her sofa. "I have no bloody idea. One minute things were just fine, and then just before Christmas he got up my case about having a date to the Yule Ball, which for some reason, he was offended by."

"Perhaps he was jealous," Hermione offered.

"Jealous?" Harry asked, looking incredulous. "Of me having a date?"

"Or the attention of the Ball reminded him of the fact that you're famous and he's not," she suggested in a broader line of thought. "How would you have felt in his place - your best friend having a pretty young lady at his side, and you going stag in second hand robes?"

Harry gave a sigh of resignation. "Pretty bad, I guess. But the thing is, 'Melia, he hasn't told me why he's mad. That was what the row was today. I asked him why he's been such a tosser, and he just stared at me, stuttered something about me not wanting to know, and then tried storming off. I went after him, and then he bloody slugged me!"

Hermione frowned. "I take it, per not seeing a mark on you, you've already been to see Poppy?"

"Yeah," Harry said, grinning sheepishly. "He got me good."

The Ron that Hermione remember would have never laid a hand on Harry, and this development troubled her greatly. Her recent conversations with Albus, Minerva, Severus, Leland, and Alastor had all been in agreement that there was probably a spy in their ranks somewhere. Severus favored Karkaroff as a suspect, while Alastor favored Leland, and Leland favored one of the Aurors in Alastor's group, whom was new to the Department and had known ties to several Pureblood families. Albus and Minerva speculated that one of the upper year students could have been drawn into Voldemort's ranks.

Hermione had pointedly said that any of the students could have been Imperiused over the summer break, and been fulfilling the role of spy without being able to so much as scream in protest of their own actions. All that said, presently Hermione was worried that Ron, who Molly had told her had taken to being off on his own a lot over this last summer, was the student of her imaginings. She'd have to investigate a bit more before bringing that to the others, but it was a lead, as much as she didn't want to think of it. She couldn't in good conscience ignore something that was decidedly out of character for her once friend.

Still, she didn't want to worry Harry, so she let him continue assuming jealousy was the root of his friend's behavior, even if she was old enough to know that jealousy alone wouldn't have taken a normally gentle Ron to the point of giving his best friend a black eye. The redhead was hiding _something_ , the question only remained: what? She prayed it was nothing sinister.

"It's nearly curfew," Hermione said with a sigh. "I best walk you back to the Tower."

"Of course," Harry agreed. "Thanks for listening, though. I'm at my wits end with him. If it were just him being a jerk to me, that would be one thing, but he's been moody toward the other guys in the dorm too, and he's been almost mean to Cho. I mean, she's really sweet, and is still kind to him even though he hasn't said a nice word to her since I asked her to the Ball."

Hermione filed the information away, to think over it in the coming days, and weeks if need be. She'd write Molly this evening and ask if there was anything the boy's mother could tell her. The letter would need to be crafted carefully, of course. She didn't want to alert Molly that something big was amiss, if it really was nothing more than normal teenaged behaviors.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	20. Chapter 20

**I am sorry for the delay in update. I promise, I've not lost motivation, my muse has not vanished, or anything like that. This week has just been one bit of crazy after another. Y'all may be getting a oneshot out of part of what's been going on. So, without further delay, I present Chapter 20.**

 **PS... Special thanks to Holli and Sierra for keeping up my arse with this project. Couldn't be doing this without you girls!**

* * *

Minerva had to admit that she enjoyed Hogsmeade duty. It was nice to get out of the castle, and if she wasn't on the schedule to chaperone, her idiot workaholic self had likely assigned detentions, which would not allow for any fresh air at all. Minerva had a sneaking suspicion that Albus assigned her to Hogsmeade duty as often as he did just to save her from herself. She was pale enough as it was.

This weekend Hermione was also on duty, though she was running late per a detention she'd had to supervise, and while she waited for the woman consuming her heart and soul, Minerva did what she was supposed to; supervise the students. It wasn't as if this was a date, though Merlin knew they needed to make time for that. While their budding relation had made a step forward two weeks prior, they'd had little time to even talk about it since. Hermione wasn't ready for anyone else to know, which was fine with Minerva. However, as they were both Professors, that did make opportunities for them both to leave the castle few and far between.

The foreign students were mingling with the Hogwarts students. Generally the students from Durmstrang mingled with Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, while the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws tended to be in the company of the ladies from Beauxbatons. Minerva observed one stray Gryffindor - the youngest Mister Weasley - daring to infiltrate a circle of Durmstrang boys who were presently surrounded by a mass of Slytherins. He was evidently making great effort to speak to Mister Krum, and when Krum finally did give Ronald two seconds of his attention, the boy positively swooned. Perhaps he was not quite as like his five elder brothers in regards to his sexual preference. Hermione would know better. She'd have to mention it.

Still awaiting Hermione's arrival, Minerva continued to watch the group of students. Ronald was walking away from the group, back towards his friends, with a huge grin on his face now, and Krum had also broken away, though he seemed to be seeking seclusion. She saw him take a quick sip from a bottle before he vanished behind a shop, and remembered Severus mentioning that Karkaroff would have the hide of any boy caught drinking. Obviously, Krum was confident that he wouldn't be caught.

"See anything interesting?" Hermione asked, tapping her on the shoulder.

Minerva turned around and smiled at her paramour. "Hello, beautiful," she whispered. "And not as such. Just people watching while I waited for you, if hormone driven students can be counted as actual people, that is."

Hermione snickered. "Depends on the student. Severus told me yesterday at dinner that Miss Brown has asked him about love potions no less than fifteen times. He's ready to wring her neck."

"He'd better not!" Minerva huffed. "I don't need the bloody paperwork."

"Humm," the other woman placated.

"Oh, an inquiry, if you will," the Scottish witch said, remembering her question about Weasley. "Have you ever noticed any signs that Ronald might be, oh, what's the phrase? Batting for the home team?"

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Oh," she said. "OH!"

"What?"

"I'm such an idiot!"

"I assure you that you are most certainly not," Minerva said, frowning. "Why do you say so?"

Hermione slapped her palm to her forehead. "A few weeks ago Harry talked to me about having a row with Ron. From what he said, I was assuming it was simple, male competitiveness and jealousy, but now that you point it out… Merlin, Minerva, I think Ron fancies Harry!"

"Huh," Minerva squeaked. "I'll be."

"It makes perfect sense now! It was so bloody obvious, I can't believe I missed it!"

"Well unless you have suddenly become omniscient, there's really nothing I can tell that would have really given it away," Minerva reasoned. "I mean, it's not as if Harry had been mysteriously receiving flowers and chocolates. If Ronald has developed feelings for Harry, he's taken care not to show it."

"Probably because the notion scares the shite out of him," Hermione agreed. "If he told Harry how he felt and Harry rejected him… I imagine Ron would liken that blow to that of losing me. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place."

"More like a rock and a _heart_ place," Minerva murmured. "I remember feeling much the same when I realized I'd developed feelings for Amelia."

"Touché."

The conversation ended there, as a sixth year Hufflepuff girl came running up to them. "Professor McGonagall! Professor Slytherin! There's a brawl at the Three Broomsticks!"

The two women sighed, and took off at a brisk pace toward Rosmerta's place, knowing that in the time it had taken the Hufflepuff to come find them, Rosmerta had probably already taken care of the problem. That woman had no qualms about hexing unsuspecting students. Poppy always kept the balm to heal welts from stinging hexes on hand when there was a Hogsmeade weekend coming up for just this reason.

Just as expected, Rosmerta was cursing up a storm and sending stinging hexes towards anyone who dared get in the way of her intended targets - the three burley Durmstrang boys and the two seventh year Gryffindors who were evidently the cause of the ruckus.

"That will be quite enough!" Minerva boomed as she and Hermione entered the pub.

The young Hufflepuff had wisely decided not to follow them back to the scene of the brawl, saving Minerva the trouble of shielding him from the incoming hexes as well as shielding herself. Hermione, of course, could look after herself, and a matter of moments later, the fighting had ceased and Hermione was sending her Patronus - a cobra by the looks of it - to wherever Igor Karkaroff happened to be, summoning him to come collect his miscreants. Of course, Minerva would be dealing with her own cubs.

"Go easy on then," Hermione teased. "Nobody is hurt… much."

Minerva glared at the offending Gryffindors, ignoring Hermione's comment. "Mister Alas! Mister Nolton! Is this the sort of behavior the Auror Department can't look forward to seeing when you both join the Corps next year? Should I be regretting sending those recommendations for you both?"

"No ma'am," they both muttered, looking at their shoes.

"It will never happen again, Professor," the taller boy - David Nolton promised.

His best friend Nick nodded in agreement. "Never again."

"To ensure this promise is not made and forgotten, you are both banned from Hogsmeade trips for three months, and will both be joining me for a detention on Monday evening, seven o'clock, during which we will be having a serious discussion about your planned career paths."

"Yes ma'am," they both replied.

"Off to the castle now, both of you," she said, looking around the pub for someone to escort them up. In the corner was Cedric Diggory, Head Boy, sporting a bloody nose that had probably been the thanks he got for trying to break up the fight. "Mr. Diggory, if you would please see your fellows to the castle, and then do stop in to see Madam Pomfrey to fix yourself up."

"Of course, Professor," Cedric agreed. "For the record, it was one of the Durmstrang boys who gave me this - just because I said I'd stand a good chance against Krum. David and Nick were just trying to stop them from beating me to a pulp after the first punch got thrown. Please don't be too hard on them."

Minerva nodded, new understanding of the situation dawning. "Well then, if you would kindly join Misters Alas and Nolton on Monday evening in my office, we'll discuss the circumstances in full and readdress the punishment."

The two Gryffindors looked gratefully at Cedric. He was not their housemate, but he'd stood up for them. As far as Minerva knew, the Hufflepuff boy had never really spent time the two Gryffindors before today, and that really showed the strength of Diggory's character. Minerva looked forward to seeing what sort of man he'd grow up to be, presuming he survived this bloody tournament.

The Hogwarts students involved in the fight departed, and after ten minutes of waiting, Minerva sent another seventh year boy - a Ravenclaw - to escort the Durmstrang boys up. She had better things to do than babysit Karkaroff's students. Already there and still chilled from the January air, she and Hermione ordered hot Butterbeers, and sat down at a table to drink them. A few minutes later, Severus stormed in the door, looking annoyed. His scowl grew when he spotted his fellow Professors. "Where are Igor's apes?" He demanded.

"I sent them up with a Ravenclaw," Minerva stated. "Where is Igor?"

"He was in a meeting with Crouch," Severus replied. "Albus sent me out in this bloody weather in his stead."

Just then, Rosmerta came over, bearing two more hot butterbeers. "I was just about to join Minerva and Amelia when I saw you come in, Sev. Thought you'd like to sit with us and warm up before you return to Hogwarts."

"Thank you, Ros," Severus said gently, taking the proffered mug.

"My god, Severus Snape being polite to a human being!" Hermione exclaimed.

Minerva chuckled. "Rosmerta and Severus' respective mothers were housemates at Hogwarts," she explained. "Mairead was one of the few people Eileen kept in touch with from the Wizarding world after she married Severus' muggle father. These two spent a lot of time together has children."

"I babysat him during the summers. He was adorable," Rosmerta added.

"I was not!" Severus objected.

"Were too!"

"Was NOT!"

"Don't sass your elders, young man!" she teased.

"Oh sweet Merlin," Severus groaned, eyeing Minerva and Hermione. "If either of you breathes a word…"

Hermione laughed. "I wouldn't dare! Though it is nice to see you have a softer side, Severus."

"Now and then," he admitted grudgingly.

"Seldom, if Rosmerta isn't around," Minerva corrected. "Though it's always a treat when it happens."

Severus excused himself as soon as he'd finished his drink, though as a snowball fight had drawn most of the students out of the Three Broomsticks, Rosmerta was not busy and continued to sit with Minerva and Hermione.

"So," she said after Severus left. "Are my eyes deceiving me, or do you two have a decided glow about you?"

Hermione laughed. "There may or may not have been a situation involving mistletoe, a lonely balcony, and a wonderful kiss the night of the Yule Ball."

Rosmerta slapped the table with her hand and grinned. "Called it!"

"Quite," Minerva blushed, feeling Hermione reach for her hand under the table.

"I'm happy for you both," Rosmerta said. "Also, I expect detailed reports as _this_ develops. My love life is pathetically lacking at the moment, so I'll have to live vicariously through you for a bit."

"What happened to Cornelius?" Minerva asked her friend. "I thought that was getting serious."

"Hardly," the proprietress laughed. "I think he wanted it to be, which is why I broke it off. I do not fancy being the wife of the Minister for _bloody_ Magic. Actually, I don't fancy being anyone's wife, which is probably why I spend so much time single."

"You would have fit into the Founders Era with no problem," Hermione teased. "Shag buddies were commonplace then, even among those married to other partners. One could have the security of a spouse, and the passion of a lover, and seldom did jealousy become an issue to contend with."

"Time travel is starting to appeal! Trade you places, Hermione?" Rosmerta laughed.

"I think not!" Minerva put in. "If she hadn't gone back, and returned here as an adult, I'd be dealing with horrible guilt and self-loathing per an attraction to a student under my charge. I favor the way things are working out, thank you very much."

"Do you think you would have become attracted to me had I never gone back in time?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Perhaps not for another year or two, but yes, I think loving you was pretty much inevitable," Minerva admitted. "Not that this idea thrills me. You deserve a life with someone who is not decades your senior. I probably would not have pursued you, feelings or not, with that in mind."

It was true, Minerva mused as the conversation turned away from the past and on to speculating what the second task would bring. She would never have made advances toward one Hermione Granger, especially not whilst she was still a student here. She wanted to think her self control would have held out beyond Hermione's graduation, but if how she felt now was any indication, there would be no holding together for long, in any case.

Just then, the door of the Three Broomsticks flung open, and an excited looking Harry Potter rushed over to their table. "I've done it! I've figured out the Egg Clue!"

The pride on Hermione's face in that moment told Minerva plainly that while her fellow Professor had denied feeling maternal toward the boy, that it had developed intended or not. In this moment, there was no Hermione and Harry. There was a mother and her son.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Getting back on track! Enjoy!**

* * *

January flew by. Hermione watched Harry's attempts at romancing his girlfriend, Cho Chang, with a bitter-sweet view. She was glad to see him doing something _normal_ , but sad for how utterly dejected Ron looked. More and more as the weeks since Minerva's observation about Ron's sexuality passed, she found more and more evidence to support the idea that Ron fancied Harry, and Harry being Harry and very much wrapped up in Cho, remained oblivious. Hermione and Minerva had agreed that, at least for the time being, it would be best to allow the boys to deal with this love triangle on their own.

Having just finished rounds with Leland, Hermione was heading back to her quarters at quarter till twelve, more than ready for a stiff drink. She's caught two Ravenclaws on the Library, claiming to be _studying_ , although the swollen lips they'd each sported said otherwise. Snog fests were all well and good… during free periods and before curfew. Otherwise, it was detention. Filius would not be happy when she told him in the morning, especially given that the young lady she'd caught was Head Girl. Further, she'd caught two Gryffindor second years trying to find a secret passage they'd heard about via Fred and George Weasley, and a single Slytherin sixth year attempting to charm a corridor to become a wind tunnel whenever any student not in Slytherin happened to walk down it. He'd be in detention for a month, if Hermione knew Severus at all.

Suddenly, Hermione got a tingly feeling down her back, and a sense she was being watched. Acutely aware of the unknown threat to Harry that was presumably still in the castle, her wand was out in a moment, turning swiftly and casting - " _Petrificus Totalus!"_

Hermione swiftly moved toward the person now frozen stiff and on their back, and upon identifying said person, she let out a huff and reversed the spell. "Harry James Potter!" she hissed. "You'd better have a damn good reason for being out of bed right now!"

Harry scurried to his feet, rubbing his arms and thighs to get the warmth back into them. "Er… well… that is…"

"I'm _waiting!"_ she said, tapping her foot. Yes. Tonight would call for a _very_ stiff drink.

"I have a reason, but I don't want to tell you," he finally mumbled. "Can't we just leave it at that?"

She looked at him incredulously. "You're joking, right?"

"I don't want to lie to you," he tried explaining. "But I can't tell you why I'm out."

"I see," she commented. It was then that Hermione noticed a bit of parchment sticking out of Harry's back pocket. Certain it would offer some clue as to what her ward was up to, she summoned it non-verbally, eliciting a yelp of objection from the boy.

"That's mine!"

"Not anymore it's not," she said, looking at the offending article. Ah, the Marauder's Map. She knew Harry had it, but he'd never shown her how to work it. She tapped it with her wand as Harry looked on. "Well let's see then," she muttered. "Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs offer their compliments to Professor Slytherin, and request that she be less of a prick tease to poor Padfoot."

Harry guffawed.

Hermione glared, but continued reading. "Further, being the wife of a Marauder makes you an honorary one, and therefore we welcome you to make use of our creation. We solemnly swear that we are up to no good, and so must you."

She smirked at Harry's look of astonishment. "You didn't think Sirius told me about this?"

"But… but… he _made_ the Marauder's map?" Harry asked. Obviously Sirius had not gotten to mentioning this to his godson. In fairness, he'd only mentioned it to her in passing, while they discussed the various secret passages he knew of in the school.

"Padfoot, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail are, respectively, your godfather, Remus Lupin, your father, and finally Peter Pettigrew," Hermione explained. "They were all friends back when they were students here."

"Bloody hell!" Harry exclaimed.

"I'll be keeping this for the time being," Hermione said, holding up the map. "Not only are you not supposed to be out after curfew, but you insist upon not even telling me why. Harry, you are in imminent danger, and it is beyond reckless for you to be wandering the corridors late at night, and worse yet, alone! If I cannot trust you to use good sense while utilizing this heirloom, then I'm sorry, you may not remain its keeper. When you are prepared to tell me the truth, we'll discuss you getting it back -"

"BUT!"

"But nothing young man. See yourself back to Gryffindor Tower at once," she said firmly. "I'll know if you make any detours."

Harry grudgingly turned to go, looking dejected, though not angry. He knew he'd been out of line, though it seemed that whatever he was hiding was of more value to him than her trust, and that was truly surprising. She thought they were past that sort of thing.

With a sigh, Hermione turned and went into her quarters, taking a seat at her desk and laying the Marauder's Map out before her. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she said, tapping it again. Moments later, the whole of the castle's blueprint was laid before her, little footprints with names beside them following their paths. It occurred to her that this map depended on the foreknowledge of the mapmakers, and that there were probably a few secrets they'd never discovered. She quickly located the seven they had found, and resolved to go and check each of them another day to see which of them had survived the last twenty-odd years since the map had been initially made.

There were quite a few they'd never found, and that really didn't surprise her, as several of them were only accessible via parseltongue. The Chamber of Secrets, of course, Harry had discovered with her and Ron's help during their first year, though she was doubtful he'd gone back since to find the two _other_ passages that led between the Chamber and other locations. One led between the chamber and the Head's Quarters, and the second led from the chamber to the Slytherin Dorm rooms. Sal had added the latter so he could check up on Lucy after she started school.

Beyond that, there was a passage between the Kitchen and _The Three Broomsticks_ , which she doubted Rosmerta knew about. There was also one behind the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room, which led to the Hufflepuff Common Room, and another from Ravenclaw Tower, where Filius' office currently was, to a secret Potions lab which had belonged to Rowena. Hermione imagined Severus would be thrilled to find it, if it was still even partially intact. The final secret passage that Hermione knew of led from the original staff room - only a few rooms away from the current one, and it led deep underground to a cavern that lay in the cliffs Hogwarts was built on. She, Rowena, and Salazar used to go down to those caves often…

Need for a drink now gone, Hermione pulled her cloak back on and made for the Entry Hall, off of which was the corridor leading to the old staff room. When she entered the room, it became obvious it hadn't been utilized for anything in years. The thin coat of dust covering the tables left behind and the cobwebs along the window frames told Hermione it was one of the rooms which the House Elves only bothered cleaning during the summer absence of students to keep them busy. A few flicks of her wand cleared the filth - she didn't want to access the secret tunnel and leave a trail of footprints in the dust to be followed.

That done, she reached for a stone in the windowsill, and with a shuddering groan, a portion of the floor in the right hand corner of the room slid under the wall, revealing a narrow staircase. "So far, so good," Hermione muttered to herself.

Wand clutched tightly in her hand, prepared for any number of threats that could be waiting for her, she descended the stairs, not bothering to clear the extensive dust in fear of letting her guard down. By the looks of things, no one had been down here in hundreds of years. Likely, Salazar and Rowena had never shared this place with anyone. In fact, knowing how sentimental the two of them could be, she wouldn't be surprised if the last people to walk down these stairs had been the three of them, the night before she left. They'd made love down here, saying their goodbyes in kisses and touches all through the night. This had been their place. It had been the only of the passages she'd been responsible for creating. It had never occurred to the other four that there might be caverns under the ground they were building on.

Step by step, meter by meter, Hermione trudged along the almost half a mile of stairs and corridors. She met no creatures, and only a minor cave in that she'd been able to repair in a matter of minutes before pressing on. Then, there it was.

The enchantments to simulate sunlight, or at present, moonlight had held all these years, and the huge cavern was now rich with a small forest of trees, untouched by animal or insect damage. The sound of the creek still running across the one side of the cavern was music to her ears, and the moss that covered the floor was thick and spongy. She took off her shoes and sighed as her feet pressed into the ground covering - not wet or slimy, but rather feeling like a warm carpet - the head of the nearby hot spring radiating into the plant and keeping the creek's moisture from permeating the growth. The ceiling glowed as if a full moon was kissing the rock formations, casting a soft light on the whole of the cavern. The odd stalagmite thrust out of the mossy floor, mostly near the creek, though the ceiling was covered with stalactites to the point of sometimes even dipping down to touch the treetops, and in most places, seeming less like individual rock formations, and more like misty blue curtains that stage light was just peeking through.

It was as beautiful as it had been the last time she'd been here, even though it had been a thousand years, waiting for her to come home. Some things truly were timeless.

Hermione walked around for a bit, finding the smaller caverns to be just as intact, though the magically simulated lighting enchantments had not held up in those. Their getaway bedroom was dusty, and the linens had long since decayed, but the wooden frame of the great canopy bed was in perfect condition, and the matching dressers and bedside tables were much the same. The bathroom off of it was, again, dusty, but otherwise was in perfect condition. Even the plumbing seemed to have held up over the centuries. Three other caverns being a small kitchen, an office, and a den were also in like condition, and with great trepidation Hermione unwarded the final attached cavern.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she walked into what had been their private library. Preservations spells were in place, even if the magical lighting was not. Before her lay thousands of books on cherry shelving that went floor to ceiling, going up ten meters, and likewise cherry ladders beckoning her to climb and explore the tomes above.

As much as she'd liked to have stayed here for hours, Hermione knew she had classes to teach in the morning. She'd make time to come down here in the coming weeks and clean things up, and then, she decided she'd bring Minerva to this getaway. While a part of her selfishly wanted to keep this place to herself, to keep what she'd had with Salazar and Rowena separate from what was developing between she and Minerva, she'd already known she'd need to find some way to bridge the two - her past and her present. This place would be a perfect means of doing so.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	22. Chapter 22

**I appologize for the delay in updates. My life is a bit on the crazy side at the moment, and to be honest, this chapter was a bit of a chore to right. I knew two major things needed to happen, and I struggled with transitioning between point A and point B - the mood of the scene so dramatically shifts, and it took forever for me to get happy with how it ultimately ended up. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Next chapter is the Second Task!**

* * *

It was Valentine's Day, and Hermione had asked Minerva the night before to join her in her quarters after dinner. Neither woman had rounds tonight, and Minerva was hopeful that on the day for lovers, she and her paramour might get a chance to talk about what had evolved between them. Beyond the first kiss and declaration of love on New Year's Eve, there had been a few stolen touches, but beyond that, nothing. The affection had not in any way diminished, there simply hadn't been time. Hell, there hadn't even been time enough for a conversation about _making_ time for each other. Perhaps this evening.

Hermione had given her the password to her quarters - _Granger_ \- some months ago, so Minerva merely let herself in when she arrived, knowing Hermione was expecting her. "Good evening, my dear," she said softly, seeing Hermione bend over her desk, examining a piece of parchment that covered nearly the entire surface of the desk. "What are you up to?"

The brunette looked up and smiled. "Come, have a look."

Minerva came around the desk, and leaned over. With a gasp of surprise she saw what appeared to be a blueprint of Hogwarts that was charmed to show where everyone in the castle happened to be at that moment. It was a marvelous piece of charm work. "Did you make this?" she asked in awe.

"This copy, yes," Hermione replied. "However I can't claim credit for the original idea. That credit goes to Sirius and Remus, along with James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. They made it while they were students here. I suspect that Remus put in most of the work, though he still hasn't responded to my Owl, so I can't say for sure until he does. Harry had that copy, and was using for late night activities of which he refuses to explain to me."

"Odd for Harry to keep something from you, isn't it?" Minerva asked, frowning.

"Yes it is, which has me rather concerned," Hermione agreed. "Of course, that is effectively lying to me because he flat out refused to explain himself, and the consequence of such was my taking the map. I decided to make a copy of it for myself, so when he gets his back, I'll still have one. Besides the invaluable aspect of being able to keep an eye on him, I noticed several secret passages that the original map's makers - the _Marauders_ \- never found. I will be adding them to my copy. Remus and his friends also never found the Room of Requirement, nor the Chamber of Secrets, so of course I'll be adding them. Their map also didn't extend to the grounds and Hogsmeade, and as six of the passages lead out of the actual school, it makes sense. See? I just finished adding the Black Lake, which of course currently includes the Durmstrang ship."

Minerva peered to where Hermione was pointing. "I wonder what Mister Crouch is doing there," she said, observing the blurb that indicated the location on the deck where one "Bartimus Crouch" was.

"Looks like he's talking to Igor," Hermione mused. "Probably Karkaroff trying to talk his way into giving Krum an edge."

"That would be just like him," the Scottish witch agreed.

Minerva opted to continue scanning the map, starting in the Entrance Hall as if she'd just walked into the school. It was only a minute later before she saw a secret passage leading from an empty room near the Staff Room. "I didn't know that was there," she said, pointing.

Hermione smiled at where her finger was resting. "As it happens, I thought this evening we'd go for a walk down that particular passage. I'm not surprised it was never found - while the main entrance is accessible by anyone who knows how, the end of the tunnel leads to a cavern, and entry to the cavern is guarded by a parseltongue password."

"How many passages are in Hogwarts?" Minerva inquired. She knew of four, though one had caved in a few years ago, and she strongly suspected there was one leading to Honeydukes in Hogsmeade, though she had no idea how to access it, and no idea where the other end of the passage could be.

"Fourteen passages in total, in addition to the Chamber of Secrets, Room of Requirement, and the Get-Away Cavern," Hermione replied. "I spent some free time this week checking them all over - all but the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor were still in primarily good shape, and I fixed that one just last evening."

"Amazing. I thought maybe two or three in addition to the four I already knew about, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," Minerva replied. "After all, when Hogwarts was being built, having secret means to hide within or escape the castle during a potential siege would have been of vital importance."

"The original ten would have been more than sufficient, however Godric liked the novelty of secret passages, and insisted on more," Hermione said. "Salazar insisted that was frivolous thinking, however Rowena pointed out that two of the passages were only accessible by Salazar and myself, and that it was hardly fair. Helga agreed at once, and five minutes later we were plotting out ways to work secret passages into a Hogwarts that was already half built. Personally, I think it all ended up getting a bit out of control, though I suppose I'm glad of the memory, if nothing else."

Minerva allowed Hermione moment of remembrance, before placing her hand on the other woman's shoulder in silent support. Hermione looked at her and smiled softly. "Well then," she said. "How about we go for a walk? I'd like to show you a wonder of Hogwarts you've never seen, or even dreamed existed."

"Sounds romantic," Minerva replied.

"It is," Hermione assured her. Minerva shivered as Hermione's finger tips dragged down her spine, and she had to stifle a moan as a set of teeth gently bit on her neck as a hand snaked across her hip and pressed lightly into the lower end of her abdomen. "Very romantic."

"I can't wait to see it," the Scottish woman claimed, though they both knew she'd much rather just have Hermione keep on doing what she was doing right now. What was so romantic about secret passages anyway?

Of course, as any good tease might, after a quick dip of the hand even _lower_ , Hermione pulled away and offered a flirty grin. "Well come along, then!" she urged.

Minerva let out an exasperated sigh, and then moved to follow Hermione out the door. They didn't talk on route to the room the younger witch had pointed out on the map, carefully moving along the dimly lit corridors on the lookout for anyone who might be following them. In a way, Minerva felt as if she was a student at Hogwarts again, sneaking around with a lover-to-be, intent on finding somewhere unfindable to just be alone together.

Before long, they had entered an empty room - the former staffroom if Minerva's memory served correctly - and Hermione moved toward the singular window. She placed her hand on a stone and pressed down lightly, and Minerva gasped as a part of the floor in one corner slid out of place, revealing a staircase.

Still, Hermione said nothing, just beckoned Minerva to follow. The passage was narrow, but the roof above grew higher as they descended, eventually ceasing to be smooth, and becoming a lovely display of rock formations that seemed to glow as if exposed to moonlight. It was nearly fifteen minutes, by her guess, before she and her fellow Professor came to what seemed to be a dead end.

" _Aseelass selassear,_ " Hermione hissed, her low tones echoing against the now cathedral height passage.

The sound of a lock beginning to move sounded, seeming very loud for as silent as the walk had been.

" _Salassar rosensa hersassnea,_ " Hermione continued in parseltonue.

The mechanism again moved, and then suddenly the stone wall in front of them simply began to fade away, the transparency showing the same blue glow that had lit their way down, before the nothing the wall became revealed a vast cavern. Much like the corridor, the ceiling was alight in a soft blue glow, bouncing off what appeared to be a stream on the other side of the alcove, and against the smooth, slightly damp walls that enclosed the space. The ground, Minerva noted as she stepped forward, was covered in a thick moss. It was a natural carpet and she was unsurprised when Hermione kicked off her boots and began walking forward on her bare feet. Minerva followed suit, sighing with contentment as her toes curled around the warm, soft surface. There certainly was something to be said about the magic of nature - an actual forest included - though she was sure that there were some magics involved in creating and maintaining this wonderful place.

"It's beautiful," Minerva whispered, gently pulling Hermione close. "Just like you."

"There's more," Hermione replied, blushing lightly.

"More?" she asked, curious.

Hermione pointed towards two doors to the left of their position. "The first door is a bedroom suite..."

"Bedroom?" Minerva squeaked.

Hermione grinned. "...and the second door leads to my, Salazar, and Rowena's private library."

"Library?!"

Minerva wasn't sure if the woman in love, or the intellect part of herself was more excited. Her mind drifted to a book she'd read years ago, ' _The Arabian Nights'_ , and was suddenly struck at how this place really was her very own _Cave of Wonders_. Perhaps for some, jewels and antiques would appeal more, but to Minerva McGonagall, the serenity before her was made absolutely perfect by the presence of books and the woman she loved. And a bed.

Her thought process was interrupted by Hermione picking up where she'd left off in her personal office - hands snaked around Minerva and she leaned into the shorter woman's embrace as lips pressed against the side of her neck. This time, Hermione's hands did not drift down, but rather up, brushing her fingers against the underside of Minerva's breasts. Lazily, those fingers climbed higher still, until her hands were gently cupping one breast in each hand, all the while continuing to nip at the now throbbing artery on the underside of her jaw. Suddenly, Hermione grabbed each breast and pulled back firmly, simultaneously biting down harshly on the pulse point.

Minerva orgasmed, and then melted against the warm body holding her. Gently, Hermione eased her to the ground, twisting her own body in the process, and ultimately falling gracefully on top of her paramour, hip to hip, stomach to stomach, breast to breast, and then slowly, lips to lips. The two kissed languidly for a while, tempo increasing just a bit at a time. Eventually, hands began to wander to more intimate places, and though Minerva couldn't really recall _when_ it had happened, it wasn't long before unbuttoned robes were being pushed aside, and the muggle clothing under each of their teaching wear began to be pushed and pulled away.

 _Screw the bedroom_ , Minerva thought as she rolled Hermione, and the fact that they were tumbling around on the mossy carpet crossed her mind. A moment later Hermione had rolled her right back over, and as the kiss broke Minerva was struck by the image before her. Hermione was looking at her, longing in her eyes, and behind her was a ceiling covered with rock formations all magically aglow. It only then occurred to her, remembering _where_ they were right now, that Hermione was in fact a widow. She'd _known_ that, of course, but in this moment that knowledge meant something.

Hermione had brought her here - the getaway she'd shared with her lovers of the past - with the obvious intention of taking their relationship to the next level. In her place, Minerva wasn't sure she'd have been willing to share this wondrous, private tie to her past, and that meant something. It was the most profound statement of love Hermione could have made.

"I want you," she murmured. "I _love_ you."

"You have me, my love," Hermione replied softly. "You have me."

* * *

 **AN: I know many of you are wishing that scene was more lemony, but the scene was not about sex, it was about love, so I decided to leave it the way it is here. Don't worry, there are going to be lemony chapters... just not this one. Next one is scheduled for Chapter 27, for the sake of teasing you lot...PLEASE REVIEW!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Sorry, sorry, sorry! Writer's block is evil. I am BACK with more Telling Time. I've continued plotting the story (plotted all the way through the second part of the trilogy I have planned), but for some reason I got stuck on this chapter. Here it is. Please enjoy!**

* * *

"Leaving the Floo open was supposed to be for emergencies only," Hermione mused, eyeing the large black dog who had just pranced up and sat down beside her in the stands overlooking the lake. The second task was set to begin in just a few minutes, and she had handed Harry a pocket full of Gillyweed just before she'd made her way over here.

The dog looked at her with soulful eyes, and then jumped up and licked her cheek.

Hermione wiped the slobber off her face with her sleeve, glaring at her companion. "Don't let Minerva catch you doing that, Sirius," she recommended. "She'd likely shrink you to the size of a mouse and chase you about."

"Not a bad idea," Minerva agreed, having just then arrived. "I'll remember that for future reference."

Sirius offered a whimper, and then lay down on the ground at Hermione's feet, obviously trying to convey surrender.

Moments later, Leland joined the gathering, followed by Severus. "Slytherin, McGonagall," the secondary Defense Professor greeted.

"Hermione, Minerva," Severus said in turn.

"Have a seat, gentlemen," Hermione replied.

"Good afternoon Severus," Minerva said to the potions master, blatantly ignoring Leland.

Leland and Hermione both rolled their eyes at the same time, earning a smirk from Severus. The childish attitude Minerva seemed to have while Leland was around was something the other three adults had conversed about before. Hermione had encouraged Leland to tell Minerva the truth about her uncle, though he believed that it would do more damage than good to do so, and thus refused.

The sound of Albus and Crouch making the introductions to the task at hand broke Hermione's line of thought, focusing her attention on the deck that hung out over the shallow end of the lake. Harry stood there with the other three champions, waiting for the whistle to blow.

"Where's Ronald?" Minerva asked.

Hermione sighed. "I haven't seen him, though with the on again off again rowing between the boys, I wouldn't be surprised if he just didn't come down for the task."

"It's normal enough for teenagers to have disagreements," Minerva replied. "That's not even taking into consideration our theory about Ronald's feelings."

"I suppose," the younger witch replied. "It just… well, I hoped that with me gone, unavailable to be a buffer between them, that they'd each mature to a point of not _needing_ one."

"The lads are still young," Leland put in. "Though what's this about Weasley's feelings?"

"We suspect that Ron may have a romantic interest in Harry," Hermione explained, knowing Minerva wasn't going to explain.

Severus smiked. "I'd pay to be a fly on the wall when Molly finds out her boy is… that way inclined."

"Molly will not mind at all," Minerva defended the Weasley matriarch. "The boy does not have to fear rejection from her."

"I did not believe he did had cause to fear," Severus agreed. "However, the woman takes any and all opportunities to throw _parties_. I imagine Potter's sidekick will be getting himself a 'coming out bash', when it comes to it."

Leland snickered. "Yeah, that would be Molly Prewett alright. Damn fine woman, if you ask me."

"You know her?" Hermione asked, surprised. Leland had spent most of the last several decades in virtual isolation, so far as she knew. Molly couldn't have been a classmate, she was decidedly younger than the Scottish man.

"Her father and I went to Hogwarts together," Leland explained. "I've known her since she was a child. Molly is one of the few people who have seen hide or hair of me in recent years."

Hermione filed that information away as a splash alerted her that the task had begin. She'd realized after bringing Leland in that she didn't really know as much as she ought to about the man, and if Molly knew him, then Hermione would certainly appreciate her perspective.

The fact that Harry was now underwater and facing off with Merfolk and grindylow, among whatever else had been deposited in the lake for the task, didn't bother Hermione very much. Harry was well prepared. She had instructed him to consume the gillyweed as he entered the water, which would let him breathe underwater for an hour, but he also had another dose in his pocket to take should he need more time. She was hoping he was back before the hour was up, but just in case, she'd ensured he would not be in a position to drown. He was wearing a muggle diver's watch, and she'd instructed him to take another dose once he'd been down there for forty-five minutes. One of the primary reasons that gillyweed was so expensive on the open market was because while it allowed a person to breathe underwater, open air immediately negated the effects. All he had to do was surface, and he'd be back to normal.

As the clock ticked closer and closer to the hour mark, Hermione became anxious. Her entire life had been an end result of worse case scenario - an accident with a time-turner - and she didn't trust the fates enough to not take Harry away from her when she'd just only gotten him back. The fact that him even being in the tournament was a result of someone trying to kill him was not a reassuring thought. Minerva seemed to notice her tense posture, and gently took her hand in silent support. Leland and Severus, it appeared, were debating various battle tactics as a way to pass the time, and the reminder of the battles to come did not make Hermione feel any better.

Finally, one right after another, the champions rose out of the water. Fleur first with her younger sister, then Viktor with a young lady Hermione knew to be a Slytherin prefect. Cedric came up next with Cho Chang. Given that she was dating Harry, this was decidedly _of note_ to many people in the crowd. When Harry finally surfaced last, he was pulling along a familiar red-head.

Ron.

"Perhaps Ron's feelings are not so one-sided after all," she vocalized softly.

Minerva squeezed her hand. "Perhaps not," she agreed.

The two women excused themselves, and headed down to the deck with a large black dog trailing behind. Hermione noticed he looked bleary eyed - indicating he'd fallen asleep during the hour long wait, and only woke when the crowd roared in excitement upon the champions' surfacing.

Harry smiled wryly at Hermione and Minerva when he saw them coming. The smile grew when he saw Sirius padding along behind them, though it still didn't go all the way to his eyes. Something was obviously bothering him, and Hermione imagined that it had something to do with the dual confusion as to why his girlfriend had been the treasure of another, and why Ron had been deemed his own most valued relationship.

It was another two hours before Hermione managed to corner her godson, after the crowds dissipated and the champions had had the chance to change into dry clothing. Ron had been bitten by a grindylow and was now resting in the hospital wing - he'd be fine by morning - and Minerva had excused herself to go catch up on marking. Sirius, after a stern lecture from Hermione, had been scooted off back to the cottage, and she'd reset the Room of Requirement's parameters to allow him into the room, but not out of it into Hogwarts without her permission. Harry had already lost too many people he cared for. If Sirius was going to act like a foolish child, she'd treat him like one.

"Harry?" she said, approaching him from behind. He seemed to be wandering the halls aimlessly, according to her map, so she figured now was as good a time as any to talk to him.

He checked his watch upon seeing her. "What's up?" he asked. "Curfew isn't for another two hours."

Hermione chuckled. "I just wanted to talk to you about today. I'm not trying to get you in trouble."

"What about it?" he asked. "Everything went according to plan. You're brilliant."

"Everything?" she asked softly. "Including who your treasure would be?"

The bespectacled boy sighed. "I'm not sure what has me more confused. It not being Cho, or it _being_ Ron."

"Not to mention Cho being _Cedric's_ treasure."

Harry nodded. "I don't think she's been unfaithful to me or anything like that. I do think that her fears of Cedric not returning her feelings were unfounded though. I just beat him to the punch."

"What are you going to do about that?" Hermione inquired.

Harry shrugged. "Cho and me talked about it a bit. She was more than a little embarrassed. From her point of view, Cedric doesn't really know her well enough for her to believe that he truly cares about _her_ … just that he likes what little he does know. I say the bloke needs to get out more if the idea of a girl is the most valuable relationship he has."

Hermione chuckled.

"Anyway, she says that likewise, she doesn't know him well enough to think that they'll work out if she were to break things off with me to be with him, so she wants to keep dating me, I guess."

"Mature mindset," the godmother agreed with the Ravenclaw. "Of course, that does not mean you and she will work out either."

"I know."

"And what about Ron, then?" Hermione pushed.

"Well, at first I assumed it was just because he's my best mate and all," he replied slowly. "But I've got other good friends, that I like for other reasons. There's also you and Minerva and Sirius - you all mean the world to me. So why him? Why is he the _most_ important of all the people who are important to me?"

"Well, how would you react to losing Sirius?"

Harry shuddered. "I'd be upset for sure, but I could go on after. Maybe if I didn't have you and Minerva he'd mean more, but even though he's my godfather and surrogate parent sort of thing… he doesn't act that way. My stand in parents, you know, the ones who actually _parent_ me, are you and Minerva."

Well, that answered the lingering question of what sort of view Harry had on her. "And if you lost me, or Minerva?"

"That would hurt like hell…"

"But?"

"But I've already lost mum and dad - Lily and James, that is - and I got through that, right?"

Hermione nodded, not offended. She understood what he was saying - it wasn't that Harry didn't value her and Minerva, it was that he knew life would go on without them, if it had to. "And what about Ron?"

Harry looked sick to his stomach. "If Hermione was still here, I'd maybe say that she could get me through losing Ron. But she's not. He's… I don't know 'Melia. I kinda feel like a love-sick puppy to say it, not that I look at him like that, but my world would come crashing down without him. I don't know why I didn't see how much he means to me before. It makes me feel like an idiot for all the arguing we've been doing."

"Takes two to argue," Hermione pointed out.

"I know, but I could be pushing his buttons less."

"Well Harry," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations. You've done what many adults never manage - you've learned not to take people for granted."

He offered her a grin. "Thanks. Guess I should get back to the Tower. Me and Ron ought to talk, clear the air, you know? He was actually pissed at me for rescuing him this afternoon. Said ' _Oh now I matter to you, do I?'_ Bloody tosser."

She nodded, and he turned to go. "Harry!" she called after him a moment later.

"Yeah?"

"If you did think of Ron _that way_ , now or in the future," she offered as a gentle probe. "I'd love you regardless."

He looked confused. "But I don't like guys."

She smiled softly. "I did not say that you did. But the topic was breezed by and I wanted to assure you that if you did, I would not have a problem with it."

He gave her a goofy smile. "Good to know, I guess."

Seed of doubt planted firmly in her ward's mind, she watched him walk away. She had no way to know for sure if Harry cared for Ron as more than a friend, nor could she say with absolute certainty that Ron really did fancy Harry. Still, the signs were pretty strong in Ron's case, and she believed Harry to be the sort of person that with maturity, would be like herself in the notion of gender not being a consideration when seeking partners.

As Hermione walked back to her own quarters, she wondered if this thing between the boys would have ever developed had her younger self never vanished. As a third year she'd been barely aware of her own sexuality, but she'd known that she saw Harry as a brother sort and Ron as more of a potential partner, even if they did argue now and then. She'd suspected, then, that Ginny - Ron's little sister - had a bit of a crush on Harry, and wondered if that would have ever evolved into something. Maybe, maybe not. The fact of the matter was her vanishing had impacted her friends greatly. What might have been was a speculation she didn't have energy to devote much thought to. Things were what they were, and as she walked into her quarters to find a vase of roses left by Minerva, she was quite glad things had turned out the way they had.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Sorry for the delay in updates for my various stories. My muse decided to take a vacation. She is however back, refreshed, and with luck, will be inspiring more updates in the very near future!**

* * *

Last class before the students headed home for Easter break out of the way, Minerva made her way toward Hermione's classroom in hopes of confirming some last minute details about their travel plans. Both Professors had already cleared their leaving with Albus and while they had agreed to head to the cottage together, they'd yet to nail down a time of departure. Unsurprisingly, Hermione was still in her classroom, though Minerva was surprised to see her lover conferring not with a student, but the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower.

"You're sure you cannot come to the cottage for the holiday?" Hermione asked.

"I am bound to this castle," came Helena's airy reply. "I do wish I could, but we'll have to arrange another time to talk."

"It kills me that I missed out on your life, and even now we can't find time to spend together." Hermione lemented. "You're _family_. You should be bound to me, not this bloody castle."

Minerva frowned, wondering what had Hermione so urgently trying to forge a relationship with Rowena's daughter. Yes, Rowena had been her lover for a time, so by extension they were a sort of surrogate family - much like Harry with the Weasley clan - but there seemed to be something more to the story here.

"I was bound to the castle because I bare the blood of a founder," Helena explained. "Or so Mum said. Personally, I think she just wanted to keep me close after I… died."

"A little late for keeping you close, I have to say," the Defense Professor scoffed.

Helena smirked. "Perhaps."

"Hermione," Minerva stated, getting the sense she was intruding on a private conversation, and not wishing to overhear more than she already had. She trusted that if it was important, if Hermione wanted her to know, then she'd tell her lover in due time. "Harry and Ron are ready to go when you are. I have all our luggage."

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall," Helena greeted in an odd tone of voice, something Hermione noticed.

"Helena…" Hermione uttered, looking sheepishly at the ghost. "We'll arrange a time to talk again as soon as I get back to the castle."

"Of course," Helena replied. "A good holiday to you both."

With that, the woman glided toward the nearest wall, vanishing through it a moment later. There was a few moments of silence, and then Hermione cleared her throat. "Right. Shall we go, then?"

The pair found the boys quickly, as they had remained in Minerva's office as she'd instructed. From there they walked together down to the Room of Requirement, and took the Floo to the cottage, where Sirius greeted them warmly.

Harry and Ron quickly bounded up the stairs to Harry's bedroom to unpack, and Hermione started toward the kitchen, voicing a desire to fix a small lunch to tide the group over till supper time.

"Where will I be sleeping?" Minerva asked, thinking she should also get settled in. "I was just on the sofa in your office the night before the World Cup…"

Hermione offered a shy grin. "Would it be too presumptuous of me to say I thought you'd just stay with me in my room?"

"But the boys…"

"Are under the assumption that Sirius and I sleep together," Hermione explained, and that the room that I _really_ sleep in is simply there for guests. I actually installed a door between my and Siri's rooms, so we could be seen going into the same room together, and both leaving the same room."

Minerva smiled. "Well in that case, be presumptuous all you like. It would be nice to actually _sleep_ with you."

They'd only made love once, in the caverns. Their respective quarters were not remotely close together at Hogwarts, which made sneaking about to be together rather difficult. They'd shared some stolen kisses since that night nearly three months ago, and both women were feeling the sexual tension rising. Finally, over this holiday, they would have some time together, not only to make love, but to talk about how to navigate and keep quiet the nature of their evolving relationship.

"And have some time to talk," Hermione commented, as if reading her mind.

"Quite," the older woman smirked. "I'll head up there and unpack my things."

Once upstairs, she'd hardly even put her things down on the bed before she heard the muffled sounds of the boys in the next room arguing. With a huff, she exited Hermione's bedroom intent on chastising Harry and Ron, though she stopped short of the cracked open door when she heard Harry ask a loaded question.

"What is _with you_ these days, Ron?" the raven haired teen demanded. "I mean, we're bloody arguing because I suggested we just enlarge the bed, versus making a second one fit in the room! It's not like we've never shared a bed before! I don't see how suggesting we do it again makes me lazy for not asking Amelia to just charm the room a little bigger!"

"I just don't want to share a bed, that's all!" Ron snapped. "You know what, maybe me coming for the hols was a stupid idea. I should just leave. If I hurry, I can get back to Hogwarts in time to catch the train with Ginny, Fred, and George."

"What?" Harry sputtered. "No! I want you to stay!"

"Why, Harry?" the red-head bristled. "It's not like you don't see me at school. Maybe you should have invited your _girlfriend_ home instead. You don't have classes with her."

"I don't want to see Cho, I wanted to spend time with you!"

"Yeah?" Ron hissed. "Well maybe I've decided spending time with you is just too much to deal with right now."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Harry shouted.

Minerva bit her lip and peered through the crack in the door, having a strong hunch she knew where this was going, and knowing that she may need to step in.

"It means I'm in love with you," Ron choked out, sitting on Harry's single bed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "And you're with Cho. And it's killing me."

Harry just stared at his best friend for a moment, eyes wide and jaw slack. "How… how long?" he finally stammered.

Ron shrugged. "I think it's always been there. I wasn't really _aware_ of it till after 'Mione died. I remember thinking… and feeling horrid for thinking it… that I was glad it was her that died, and not you. That if you died… I couldn't stand it. And all the while we were dealing with her death…"

Harry sighed. "We were sleeping together for comfort. I'm so sorry Ron, I had no idea."

"It doesn't matter," the other boy sulked. "You're with Cho. You're not even gay. Bloody hell, I shouldn't have said anything."

"Do I have to be gay to love you?" Harry inquired after a pause.

"Well, generally if two people love each other there's kissing and shagging involved at some point," Ron said pointedly. "So yeah."

Minerva resisted the urge to chuckle at Ron's logic.

"I don't want to lose you," Harry sighed. "I don't want to lose my best mate."

Ron stood back up, wiping his face with his sleeve. "You already have," he said sadly, though Minerva's breath hitched at the resolve in her young cub's eyes. "All that's left of _that_ Ron is standing right here, right now, asking you to make a choice. I can either walk out that door right now, and you give me some time and space to figure out how to deal with my feelings for you, or you kiss me, and take a chance that maybe I'm not the only one feeling something more. It wasn't Cho you rescued from the lake, you know."

"Fifty points to Gryffindor, for sheer nerves of steel," Minerva muttered under her breath, waiting to see how Harry would react.

For a minute, he stood there just there not reacting at all, and after a further minute, Ron let out a ragged breath and started to turn towards the door.

"Bugger it!" Harry suddenly snapped, launching forward and grabbing his friend's face.

Ron responded enthusiastically as Harry kissed him, and with that, Minerva smiled softly and turned away, giving the boys some privacy and going back to her task of unpacking. Once she was done with that, she headed back down the stairs.

"Will you tell the boys to come down for lunch?" Hermione asked Minerva, seeing her lover coming back into the kitchen.

"Their mouths are elsewise occupied," the Scottish woman quipped with a smile.

"Rowing again?" she asked, having heard raised voices.

"Started that way," Minerva replied. "Now they are snogging."

Hermione dropped the loaf of bread she's just pulled out of a drawer, startled. "What? How on earth did that happen?"

"It was a scene worthy of a trashy romance novel," the older witch replied, grinning. I'll let you view the memory in my pensive when we get back to Hogwarts. That said, I think hunger is the last thing on their minds at the moment."

"At least, not that sort of hunger," Hermione grinned.

Minerva pulled her wand out and flicked it in the direction of Harry's room, causing Hermione to look at her curiously. "A ward," she explained. "If either of the boys remove so much as one stitch of clothing they will hear footsteps, as if someone was walking toward them."

"Never heard of that one," Hermione said, looking interesting.

"A spell of my own," Minerva admitted. "After having to deal with more than one of my Gryffindors becoming pregnant over the course of the first ten years I was teaching, I developed the ward so that the _heat of the moment_ events would be given a bit of cold water. I've only had to deal with one pregnant teen since I started using that ward, and she was overage. The charm only works for under-seventeens."

"That's brilliant!"

"Thank you, my dear."

Just then, Sirius strode into the kitchen, looking at the lunch fixings with interest. "Shall I fetch the boys?" he offered.

"No," Hermione said. "They seem to be wanting some quiet time. They'll come down if they get hungry. The food isn't going anywhere."

Once more, Minerva marveled at Hermione's ability to tell the truth and yet leave out pertinent information with such ease. A part of her appreciated the talent Hermione obviously had, but on the other hand, she couldn't help but wonder what her lover might still be hiding from her. She wasn't fool enough to believe Hermione had told her everything there was to know, but all Minerva could do was hope that whatever the younger witch was hiding, it wasn't something that would drive a wedge between them.

"Well," Sirius said, taking a seat. "If they're not coming down then maybe now is a good time to sort out the holes in your cover story, Hermione."

"Good idea," Minerva agreed. "It's only a matter of time before questions are asked. I wouldn't be at all surprised if some of the pureblood students have been instructed to watch you by their parents, even if they have not been informed as to why. Of course, despite being of Gryffindor, many of the Slytherin students seem to be rather taken with you. This could be useful if it comes to war again."

"It will," Hermione said sadly. "The Death Eaters at the World Cup was just a hint of the tide changing. Voldemort will return. It's just a matter of time."

Sirius cleared his throat. "I have an old contact in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement who may be of some help with your backstory. "As there really was no way I could have met and married you between James and Lily's deaths and getting carted off to Azkaban, I was thinking that if we fabricated a paper trail of you being employed with the D.M.L.E. we could claim that you were on rounds at Azkaban after I was sent there, and we met and married there."

"I didn't know that Azkaban inmates could marry," Hermione stated, curiously. "But yes, that would be an ideal set up. It would also explain why nobody has ever seen us together before now, if our relationship began while you were incarcerated."

"We can thank the Purebloods for that luxury," Sirius said, grinning. "A few decades back a Pureblood… can't recall which family… had it's only heir sent to Azkaban before he'd married and produced an heir of his own, so his father pushed a law allowing for an inmate not only to marry, but to have conjugal visits in the interest of impregnated his wife. As I am the last Black heir, I would have qualified for that sentence amendment. The only problem with this plan is that the law was put into place so an heir could be produced, and we don't have a kid."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "We could claim that I did fall pregnant, but the child died soon after birth."

Sirius shook his head. "If it ever came up to question our story, they'd check to see if you'd ever given birth."

Hermione smiled sadly. "And they would find that I have indeed been pregnant and given birth, though my daughter has been dead for centuries."

"Aw, 'Mione," Sirius said sympathetically. "I'm sorry, hun. I can't even imagine…"

"She was alive, happy, and newlywed the last time I saw her," Hermione replied. "That is how I will remember her. With luck, she lived a long and prosperous life."

"Does she have descendents?" Sirius asked. "I mean, you could have a boat load of great-great-and so forth grandkids out there."

"As I said, she was married, so I expect she did have a child or two," Hermione concluded. "Though I do not wish to seek out long lost family members. I believe it would do more harm than good, especially if they know who I am - if Lucy passed on the knowledge that her mother was a time traveler from this era. I cannot risk that some of Lucy's descendents might be willing to blow my cover."

Minerva frowned, and then got up from her own chair and walked to where her lover was standing and pulling her into a comforting embrace. It wasn't fair, that Hermione had to sacrifice so much for the cause.

"Uhh…" Sirius suddenly said. "Is there something...um… going on… maybe I should know about?"

Hermione and Minerva both blushed, having realized that they'd neglected to inform Sirius about their growing relationship. "Minerva and I have become involved romantically," Hermione explained. "Please keep that to yourself. I'm not prepared for the boys to know, or anyone for that matter."

"Well that's just awkward…" the dark haired wizard muttered.

"Why?" Minerva asked, puzzled. It wasn't as if homosexuality was a foreign concept in the Wizarding world.

"Because my mother figure is shagging my wife…" he muttered, blushing.

Minerva was overwhelmed with feeling for Sirius. She knew he thought highly over her, especially given how instrumental she'd been in getting him away from his parents' Manor and placed with the Potters all those years ago. But she never known that he saw her in the context of a mother figure, and in this particular moment she looked at Sirius and could clearly see the boy he'd been before Azkaban had robbed him of his youth. "Oh, my dear boy…" she uttered, pulling away from Hermione and pulling Sirius into a hug.

Hermione joined the hug a moment later, offering her own support to the man who'd lost so much, and in an instant Minerva was struck with how _right_ it felt. They were a family. To the three adults' surprise, just before they were each about to pull away, two more sets of strong arms latched around them signaling Ron and Harry's arrival in the kitchen.

"Group hugs are awesome!" Harry muttered, nuzzling his cheek into Minerva's shoulder.

Yes. They were a family.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	25. Chapter 25

**I apologize in advance for a lack of Minerva in this chapter, though I hope that you enjoy it regardless. Just a shout out to all of my followers and reviewers, THANK YOU for your continued support for my stories. I wouldn't be half the writer I am today if not for your constant support over the years. Teaser for upcoming things: We are only two chapters away from reaching what would have been cannon end of Goblet of Fire, and you can expect a rather profound twist in Chapter 27, one that I hope you guys will enjoy as it evolves from a cliff-hanger into the introduction of a new character in this story.**

* * *

It had been raining for three solid days, and everyone was feel rather cooped up at the cottage. By _everyone_ , Hermione actually meant Harry and Sirius. Ron had gone home to spend the last few days of Easter Break with his family, and Minerva had some paperwork Albus has roped her into back at Hogwarts. Hermione herself would be content to just sit down and enjoy a good book - perhaps the new Transfiguration book she'd snagged from Minerva's bookshelf - but the boys were going stir crazy. Harry's homework was done, so she couldn't tell him to spend time doing that, and Sirius was in a perpetual state of _bored_.

A letter from Minerva this morning had reminded her that the Third Task was only a month away, and while they already knew what it would involve - a maze filled with creatures and other magical obstacles - Hermione knew that Harry still had a ways to go before she'd consider him to be well prepared. That in mind, she put down her book and left her office, finding Harry and Sirius playing a game of chess at the kitchen table.

"Would you boys care for an outing?" she asked.

Harry looked interested, though Sirius looked downright thrilled. The elder wizard had not been out of the cottage's wards since he'd arrived here, and she supposed it was no surprise that the chance to go absolutely anywhere would be great fun in his opinion. She could probably have offered to take him to a muggle prison and he'd still be thrilled.

"Where?" Harry asked.

"Hogwarts," she replied. "Only as far as the Room of Requirement, Sirius. I thought it might be prudent to get some dueling practice in before term starts back up."

"I'm in!" Sirius quickly agreed.

Harry sighed. "Alright then. Any chance Ron could join us?"

Hermione shook her head, thinking about how she and Minerva had needed to work rather hard to keep the boys from outing their budding relationship the week Ron had been here. She didn't want to take control over if and when they chose to come out as a couple away from them, and while she and Minerva could be counted on to hold their tongues, Hermione didn't trust Sirius quite that much. For that matter, she had no idea how he felt about homosexual relationships. For all she knew, given his pureblood upbringing, he might react rather poorly to his godson's personal choices. "Not today, Harry," she replied. "You need to focus, and Sirius alone is going to be enough distraction."

The dark haired boy nodded. "Okay, that's fair. Just let me go change, and I'll be ready to go."

"Me too," Sirius agreed, taking note that like Harry, he'd not even bothered to get out of his pajamas this morning.

Hermione, as always, had dressed before she'd left her bedroom this morning, and so took a seat at the table to wait for them, taking the time to pen Minerva a quick note to alert her of their presence in the castle, should she wish to join them. She'd banish it to her lover's desk once they got inside the castle.

Half hour later, the three of them were in the Room of Requirement, which had formed into a large gym to suit their needs. Hermione - muggleborn to the last, no matter how long since she'd spent any real time in the muggle world - had insisted that Harry learn hand to hand combat as well as magical means of defense, and so the Room had also provided sparring gear. Sirius, who had always been inclined toward using his fists to solve problems, thought wrestling around was good fun. The fact that it didn't seem to bother the older wizard in the slightest to romp around with his godson reminded Hermione just how _young_ the man still behaved. No, there was no way she'd be signing over custody to Sirius Black, even if he did get his bloody name cleared.

After nearly forty minutes of going at it, Harry finally managed to pin his godfather on the ground, a success which caused him to whoop loudly. "Gotcha!" the boy said.

Sirius was lying flat on his back, with Harry's arse on his upper body, his knees around Sirius' neck, and to prevent the older man from shoving him off, Harry had pinned his arms above his head. "Yeah, yeah, well done," the elder wizard offered with only a twinge of annoyance in his tone. "Now get off of me. Don't really fancy having your bits that close to my face. I'm no poof, after all."

Harry scrambled off of his godfather quickly, offering a forced chuckle. Sirius obviously thought he was being funny, but Hermione could see the stiffness in the boy's posture and knew immediately that Harry didn't find his remark funny in the slightest. He may have, a few months ago, but that had all changed now. Hermione's heart broke to witness Harry's first dose of reality in that not everyone he cared for would be cheering on his decision to be romantically involved with Ron.

"I think that's enough hand to hand for today," Hermione cut in. "Sirius, if you'd see yourself back to the cottage, I'd like to work with Harry on spells for a little while before supper."

"I could help with that, too," Sirius offered, obviously in the self-interest of _not_ going back to the cottage.

"Go, Sirius," Hermione snapped, perhaps a little too sharply.

"Alright, alright, I'm just trying to be useful," the wizard gave in, hands up in surrender. "I'll get supper started instead. Say be home in an hour, you think?"

"If not sooner," Hermione agreed. "Though supper in an hour would be agreeable. Shall we make use of that chicken before it spoils?"

Sirius nodded in agreement, bid them farewell, and exitted via the Room's provided Floo a moment later. Harry did not seem to have even noticed his godfather's departure, having walked to the other side of the room and seemed to be staring at a mirror, which seemed to have some photographs taped to the edges. Hermione approached quietly, understanding dawning on her as she saw who was in the photographs: Harry's parents.

"Wondering what they would think?" she asked quietly.

"Huh?" Harry asked, startled.

"Of you and Ron," she clarified. The dark haired boy looked panicked at once, so she rushed to remind him of what she'd already told him. "Harry, as I've said before, if you choose to be romantically involved with a young man rather than a young woman, I will support you. I merely wish you to be happy."

"How'd you find out?" he asked quietly.

"Minerva was unpacking when you and Ron were rowing right after we arrived at the cottage for break. She'd headed to your room to break it up, and witnessed your first kiss," Hermione confessed on behalf of her lover.

"She told you?"

Hermione nodded. "Don't be upset with her. I'm your guardian and it would have been irresponsible for her to _not_ tell me."

He nodded, obviously not disagreeing. "You guys talk about everything, so that's not really surprising she'd tell you, in any case. Is she okay with… me and Ron?"

"Minerva supports you in everything, Harry," she replied gently. "She always has, and always will. Your relationship with Ron does not change her love for you."

Harry managed a smile. "That's good. I take it Siri doesn't know, though?"

"Ah, well… I thought it best to wait to tell him, at least until you're more sure of yourself and your sexuality," Hermione said, grimacing slightly. "Given his rather obvious straightness, and his Pureblood upbringing, I'm not honestly sure how well he'd take it, and I did not wish to put you in a position in which you have to defend yourself on a subject you're only just now learning about."

"Kinda like it's a bad idea to go into a debate with will the facts?" Harry asked, making a reference to a conversation he and Minerva had recently had.

"Exactly," she agreed.

"All of that said, and I'm sure Minerva would agree with me, I cannot support you seeing two people at once. If you mean to explore things further with Ron, you need to end things with Miss Chang," she said sternly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I was planning to do that once term starts. Thought I owed her more than a break-up Owl."

Hermione was pleased with Harry's gentlemanly attitude. "I agree," she said.

"So, what do you think?" the dark haired boy asked after a pause. "About what my Mum and Dad would have thought about me maybe being gay?"

"As I've told you before, Harry, I never had the chance to know Lily and James," she said, honestly not having a clue how the Potters might have felt about homosexuality. "However, Minerva was their Professor for seven years. She would be more qualified to take a reasonable guess. Or, if you get to a point where you're ready to be open about things to other people, Sirius, or Remus would be the best suited to answer that question. They were your father's best friends, and they would have known your mum quite well by extension."

"Given what Siri just said to me, I'd be more inclined to talk to Professor Lupin," Harry grumbled. "I can't believe the tosser said _that_ to me."

Hermione sighed. "I don't think Sirius meant it in a cruel way, and I certainly do not believe he'd have said it at all if he knew what you are currently going through. Yes, he can be an arse, but he does love you. I think that ultimately, even if he doesn't necessarily support your personal preferences, he'd still support _you_. Do you understand what I mean by that?"

Harry nodded.

Wherever the conversation might have gone from there was cut off by a groaning of the Room, and the formation of door. A moment later, Leland entered the room. "Sorry for the interruption, but McGonagall grudgingly let me know you were here, and I need a word."

Hermione turned to her ward. "How about you head back to the cottage and help Sirius finish up with supper? I'll be along in just a few minutes."

The boy didn't argue at all, waving to Professor Dourif on his way through the Floo. "Everything alright with Mr. Potter?" Leland asked once he'd gone.

Hermione smirked. "When is _everything_ ever alright with teenagers?"

He laughed. "True. But the boy is well enough?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "He's fine. Now, what can I do for you, my friend?"

"Well, for starters, I managed to track down that leak for you," he stated. "Skeeter's source was Antonin Dolohov. I took the liberty of Obliviating his memory of the Serpent Accord, after checking to see if he'd _shared_ the information with anyone else. He had not, so that pesky problem is solved."

Hermione nodded, filing the name away for future reference. While he may no longer be a threat to revealing her identity, if he was willing to violate the Accord it stood to reason he'd be inclined to side up with Voldemort when the time came. "What of the Malfoys?" she asked, regarding another of her assignments for her fellow Defense Professor.

Leland held up a roll of parchment. "Records at the Ministry confirm that the Malfoys are, as you suspected, a shoot off of the La Foy family. There's really no way to know for sure if the Serpent Accord was passed down that particular line, but the Malfoys _are_ the last surviving branch of the La Foy's, and so I'd be surprised if they weren't at least aware of it. That said, while the story was likely passed down, they may have stopped sealing the pact magically to prevent the line from going sterile should you ever surface."

She took the parchment, making a mental note to review what was enclosed later. The request she'd issued was a complete genealogy of all the major wizarding lines, including the Malfoys. This would help her identify both potential allies and potential enemies within the Pureblood community. "Anything else?"

"Just a message from Hagrid," Leland replied. "He says that Cyrus reports that no dragons will be brought in for the Third Task, and that he's confirmed that Silvanus Kettleburn is indeed being consulted for creatures to introduce to the maze."

"Grand," Hermione groaned. Knowing what she already knew about Kettleburn, if he was being consulted then it was likely there would be some very dangerous creatures included in the Third Task. That said, Minerva had known the man for decades, and should be able to get at least some information from him. Hermione and her lover had already agreed not to put Albus in the middle of their efforts to prepare Harry, given that he was a judge and it was a conflict of interest. "Thank you, Leland."

"Any new assignments?" he asked, looking hopeful.

Hermione chuckled. She'd never met a man more eager to take on difficult tasks. Salazar might have thrived on solving difficult problems, but Leland thirsted for the opportunity. "Not at the moment, though I will probably have something after I go over this genealogy."

"Just let me know," he said, bowing slightly. "Good evening, Professor Slytherin."

"And to you, Leland," she returned, waving as she moved to the Floo, ready to enjoy supper with Harry and Sirius, as well as Minerva, who had promised to be by for dinner, though she could not join them for their time in the Room of Requirement today.

As usual, just the thought of her paramour made Hermione smile.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	26. Chapter 26

**My muse is back with a vengeance! Hopefully this will keep up and you guys will be getting update every few days. Hope you enjoy. Next chapter concludes Goblet of Fire! Plot twist impending!**

* * *

Minerva wasn't surprised to find both Leland and Severus already in Hermione's office when she arrived there. Severus has been a surprising asset to Hermione since her arrival at Hogwarts - the adult version of herself anyway - despite knowing she had secrets and not being privy to them. Dourif, of course, Minerva loathed, but he had been very helpful to Hermione and so for that notion alone the Scottish witch tolerated his presence. At the moment, all three of them seemed to be discussing some missing potions ingredients.

"Sounds suspiciously like the ingredients for Polyjuice," Leland stated quietly. "Which would explain how an agent of the Dark Lord could remain undetected, if he or she is under the guise of someone we already trust."

"Or at least, someone we have no reason to _distrust_ ," Severus commented.

"For all we know, they could be impersonating multiple persons," Hermione sighed. "As to have access to various places based on their need at the moment."

"Given that this all started with Potter's entry into the tournament, we can assume that they are on the verge of making their move," Leland speculated. "The final task is starting in an hour. It would have to be now or never, and as we've not apprehended anyone, it's more likely to be _now_."

Hermione moved to her desk, and pulled a large bit of parchment out of a drawer, laying it out on the surface. Minerva decided to enter the room, sure she knew what Hermione was thinking. "Polyjuice can't fool the map, can it?" she smirked.

The younger witch looked up and smiled. "No, it cannot."

Severus and Leland, along with Minerva, all moved to get a look at Hermione's map, the men frowning when all they saw was a blank parchment. "Ossspensss," the map-maker hissed, and suddenly lines began to form like a spider web branching out, all the way to the edges of the parchment.

"What is it?" Leland inquired, curious.

"It's a map…" Severus said, jaw slack. "Of Hogwarts."

"More than that," Minerva stated. "How many codes did you insert?" she asked her lover.

"Black dots are people awake. White if their sleeping," Hermione explained. "Red if they're under an Imperius Curse. Green if they're disguised by Polyjuice. Blue if a person is being compelled by a potion. Yellow indicates a person in animagus form. Dots blinking between colors signifies more than one thing applies, and if I open the map and a beeping is heard, someone in in immediate danger. I have a verbal command to zoom to that person's location."

While interested in the color coding system, Severus seemed more drawn to secret passages he'd not previously been aware of. "How did you find all these passages?" he wanted to know.

Minerva noticed Hermione flinch slightly, obviously having forgotten that Severus was not privy to her secrets. "That's for me to know," she replied cryptically. "I'll tell you one day, Severus, but this is not the time. Now, Minerva, did you manage to reach Kettleburn?"

She nodded. "He says that he was recruited to acquire a Sphynx, a Minotaur, a Gryffin, and a Gorgon."

"How's Pomona's supply on Mandrake?" she asked, wincing at the list creature listed.

Severus answered. "Mature and already harvested. I wasn't privy to why, but I was given the crop last week and told to prepare the ingredients in case of need for the Mandrake Draught. Knowing a Gorgon will be be on the grounds, or rather is by this point, that makes perfect sense."

"Good, at least in their lunacy to bring such a creature to Hogwarts, they are at least putting precautions on place," Hermione snipped. "Of course, a fat load of good that will do one of the students should they get petrified and then mauled to death as they lay there helpless to so much as call for aide."

Minerva and the two men all agreed with her sentiments. This whole event was lunacy. Children had no business facing off such creatures at all, let alone without a team behind them.

"We had best get down there early," Leland suggested, breaking the silent tension that had filled the room. "If you'd be so kind, Madam Slytherin, to save me a seat, I'll detour to the Champions' tent and warn young Mr. Potter what creatures he might be facing."

"Thank you Leland," Hermione agreed. "And if you would, remain close to him until they move to enter the maze. I know it's more likely our enemy will attack from within the maze where Harry will be most vulnerable, but I don't want to take chances that they'd strike sooner. It really depends on what is motivating them, and if or not they have a deadline to meet."

"Of course," the greying man said, bowing slightly. "I'll see you all soon."

"I'll go warn Karkaroff and Madame Maxime," Severus offered. "The other Champions deserve to know what's coming as well. I'm sure Potter will warn Diggory."

"Agreed," Minerva replied. "Good thing none of us are judges, isn't it?"

"I was asked," Severus smirked. "I refused. I would never be party to this madness willingly."

He departed a moment later, only a minute behind Dourif, and Minerva turned to Hermione. "Are you alright?" she asked softly.

The younger woman let out a ragged breath. "Not really. So much could go wrong in the next hour. We have absolutely no idea who we're dealing with, and if or not it has anything to do with Voldemort," she said. "I hate being so blind."

"You've always done well thinking on your feet," Minerva soothed. "And your map will allow you to keep a close eye on our boy. If anything seems out of place, we can be there in minutes."

"It's the time between seeing something wrong and getting to Harry that worries me so," Hermione admitted. "Our enemy has had more than a year to plan, at the least, and we're basically reacting and _hoping_ we can put a stop to it."

"Whoever is out to hurt Harry has no way to know we're onto them," the elder argued. "That in itself is an advantage."

"And yet somehow I still worry," Hermione whispered, falling into the comfort of Minerva's arms.

"That's called being a _mother_."

The two stood there, just enjoying the mutual comfort, for a few minutes before they also headed down to the Quidditch Pitch, where the maze for the Third Task was currently erected. They found front row seats, being sure to have enough space for both Severus and Dourif to join them. Minerva might have preferred to exclude Dourif, but she knew that - for some reason - Hermione trusted him and Hermione needed people she trusted by her side today. Minerva's own feelings on the matter would simply have to be pushed aside for now.

The four of them were probably the only ones who didn't laugh when Filch set off the cannon a bit early. To everyone else, it was the start of excitement, but for them, it was terror setting in, plain and simple. While the men watched the crowd for signs of suspicious activity, Minerva and Hermione looked at the Map, studiously looking for colored dots and what they might represent.

"Is that the Marauder's Map?" Ron Weasley asked, voice tense as he joined them on their bench.

"My version of it," Hermione muttered. "Ron, why aren't you with your family?"

Minerva knew that the whole Weasley family had turned up in support of Harry. Despite Hermione's ward no longer really _needing_ the surrogate family, they had still remained a constant in Harry's life.

"They were all laughing with the rest of the crowd, having a grand time," Ron mumbled. "I couldn't bloody stand it. I'm too worried."

Minerva patted the boy's back, offering silent support.

A few minutes later, Ron spoke again. "What's a green dot mean?" he asked.

"Where?!" Hermione snapped, eyeing the side of the map Ron had been peering at.

"There," he pointed. "In the maze. What's Crouch doing in the maze?"

With a flick of her wand, the map folded away and was shoved in Hermione's pocket. "Green is someone under Polyjuice," she told Ron, as she stood. "Well spotted, young man."

"Harry's in danger, isn't he?" the redhead asked, obvious panic rising in his tone.

Hermione didn't answer him, rather barked out orders to her group. "Severus, go alert Albus. Leland, you do the same for Maxime and Karkaroff. Minerva, if you'd please remain with with Ron… I'm going after Harry."

Minerva knew that Hermione did not order her to stay with Ron out of lack of belief she could do something more, but rather she was being very aware of how the panic in Ron's voice was just the beginning. He would be in hysterics before long, and someone who understood why needed to stay with him. "Bring him back safe," she whispered.

The men both headed off to their respective tasks, and it really moved Minerva who Hermione seemed to inspire confidence and loyalty from those around her. It was the mark of a great leader, and Minerva smiled as she suddenly remembered the insecure young muggleborn who had walked into her life nearly five years prior. She never would have imagined that little girl growing up to be such a natural leader.

It was a few minutes before Albus' voice could be heard booming over the crowd. "If I may have your attention please! I have been alerted of a possible danger to the Champions outside of what they are expecting to face within the maze. I ask that you all please remain quiet as we try to sort this out, and ensure the safety of Misters Krum, Diggory, Potter, and Miss Delacour. If the families of the Champions would please join me in the Judge's tent, I will give you what little information I have at the present."

Ron bolted forward, Minerva closely behind. She glanced behind her and was unsurprised to see Arthur and Molly also making their way down the stands, and while other anxious Weasley's could be seen still in the stand, it was obvious that their parents had insisted they remain where they were. It was several more minutes before everyone expected arrived in the Judge's tent and as soon as the last was inside, Albus spoke again.

"We have been alerted that Dark Witch or Wizard unknown has been masquerading as someone else under the guise of Polyjuice Potion. We believe that this person is currently seeking to harm Mister Potter within the maze. It's probable that he or she would do harm to the other Champions should they barr his or her path to Mister Potter. Our team of Aurors have entered the maze behind our current Defense Professor in an effort to put a stop to this threat. For the moment, this is all we know."

Chattering erupted, and Minerva rubbed circles over Ron's back, trying to keep him from hyperventilating. "Where the bloody hell are they?!" he snapped after a few more minutes, which surprised more than one person.

Arthur was still talking to Amos Diggory, but Molly moved toward her youngest son, pulling him into a hug. "Harry will be fine," Molly cooed. "You'll see."

"He damn well better be. I _can't_ loose him," the boy said, causing the frown on Molly's face to deepen.

Minerva caught the other woman's eye, and the two shared a pained look. Molly probably assumed that Ron's state was because of how the boy's had lost Hermione to Death Eaters. Even if Molly knew that Hermione had not really died, the boys didn't, and as such her supposed death was truly mourned by them. It really was no wonder they clung to one another.

Arthur joined them a moment later, taking a turn at comforting his son and Molly moved toward Minerva, and without preamble asked a question. "Are Ron and Harry romantically involved?"

Minerva would never underestimate Molly's perceptive abilities again. After all, she'd seen it between herself and Hermione, so it really wasn't that surprising. She nodded. "It's still very new, though I believe Ron has been carrying a torch for Harry for quite some time."

Molly sighed. "That would certainly explain his deplorable attitude of late."

Minerva let out a small chuckle. "You mean the one that I've had to deal with whilst he resided in Gryffindor Tower?"

"He started acting out of sorts midway through last summer. If I were to guess, how much he missed Harry during the holiday helped him come to terms with what he was feeling," the redhaired mother of seven mused. "Besides, given all the children I had, I'd have been truly surprised if at least _one of them_ hadn't ended up being gay. Considering the odds, I mean."

"So you don't mind?"

"Of course not," Molly replied. "Love of a child should never be conditional. I've never understood how a parent could turn their son or daughter away because of choice made."

"Ron - all of your children, really - are lucky to have a mother like you," Minerva offered sincerely.

Just then, there was a rustle behind them, a tent flap being pulled back. Everyone looked up at once. Fleur entered first, and was taken into the waiting arms of her parents and sister. Cedric came in second, looking bit worse for wear and wincing as his father hugged him tightly. Hermione came in next, followed by her ward.

"HARRY!" Ron yelped, leaping out of his father's embrace and meeting Harry halfway, holding so tightly that Minerva wasn't sure if Harry was able to breathe properly. "Don't you ever, ever scare me like that again!"

"I didn't do it on purpose," Harry said softly. "I never do it _on purpose_."

Ron laughed a little.

"Where is Viktor?" Karkaroff asked, in an unusually tender voice.

Hermione turned to face the Durmstrang Headmaster. "I suspect somewhere in the castle, imprisoned. The boy you've been mentoring for the last year has been someone else under the guise of Polyjuice."

Karkaroff's hand went to his chest, looking horrified.

"It is most likely he is still alive, Igor," Hermione tried to assure him. "The imposter would have needed to keep him alive to have fresh hair for the potion. Moody is heading up to the castle now - Albus, he's wanting you to join him - to question our captive. Perhaps he will reveal the location of the _real_ Viktor Krum."

"Thank you, Professor Slytherin," Karkaroff replied. "I am in your debt."

Hermione just nodded. "None of this is Viktor's fault. Do not be too hard on him."

The foreign Headmaster sighed, obviously seeing Hermione's point even if it was his instinct to punish for his pupil allowing himself to be captured at all. "Again, thank you."

Minerva watched the exchange with amusement, knowing full well the mark that Karkaroff's forearm bore, and wondering when and under what circumstances Hermione might call in his dept. What choice would the Death Eater make, if it came between Hermione and Voldemort?

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Well, this chapter officially takes this story over the 60k mark for me. This is huge for me, as it makes it the longest thing I've ever written, and I'm truly excited that the story is nowhere near finished. This chapter does, however, mark the last chapter that would follow "The Goblet of Fire". The next chapter will be Harry's birthday, and the start of "The Order of the Phoenix". The next four chapters will cover the summer for Minerva, Hermione, Harry, and crew, and then yup, you know it, Chapter 32 will be Hermione Slytherin versus Dolores Umbridge, take one. Anyone besides me excited to see how that goes? Well, without further delay, enjoy Chapter 27. :)**

* * *

"Is there a reason that Rita Skeeter started twitching when we saw her at the Ministry this morning?"

Hermione looked up from her desk, and raised an eyebrow toward her lover. "It wasn't you, dearest," she replied. "I'm afraid Ms. Skeeter is rather terrified of _me_."

"Why?" Minerva wanted to know.

"I told her I'd feed her to a dragon if she printed anything about myself or Harry," Hermione explained.

"And?"

"And then she wrote an article about Harry after the Final Task last week."

Minerva laughed. "Well in that case, I suppose she is lucky to be alive. You're not actually going to feed her to a dragon, are you?"

"As the article in question was actually not offensive for the most part, I told her I was going to let it slide, _this time_ ," Hermione shrugged. "Though I did make it clear to her that there would not be a third chance."

"Seems rather harsh," the older witch commented. "She's annoying, sure, but hardly a danger."

"She already knows some of the truth about who I am. If she dug at all, she could easily put the rest of the puzzle together. _That_ makes her a threat," Hermione replied. "If the truth got out, Harry would be taken from me, and sent back to the Dursleys. Sirius would be at risk of being thrown back in Azkaban. You and Albus could be implicated as accessories after the fact, and if my capture included questioning under a truth potion of some kind, my knowledge about Leland could also come out, putting _him_ at risk as well. I hate to sound egotistical, but I know a lot of things about a lot of people, and my being free is vital if we're to keep ahead of Voldemort. _That_ is why I am not kidding in the slightest when I say that I absolutely will remove Skeeter from the picture if she choses not to heed my warning."

It was moments like that that Minerva remembered that the little girl she'd known as Hermione Granger hadn't simply _grown up_. She'd grown up in harsh conditions, in a time and place where duels were to the death and eliminating an enemy was not considered a crime. Further, she'd grown up under the tutelage of one of the most cunning men in all wizarding history, and was absolutely influenced by him. The woman before her was _very_ dangerous, and more to the point, she was smart enough to get away with whatever she chose to do.

"You're afraid of me," Hermione commented.

Minerva shook her head, realizing that her lack of response, coupled by the stunned expression on her face must of led Hermione to believe as much. "No," she assured her lover. "I just sometimes forget your past. Those mentalities are archaic in my mind, though I do know that in a war - which we both know is bound to happen - those mentalities are appropriate. Civilized? No. Necessary? Absolutely. I'm actually glad that you're able to see the big picture. You and Albus are so alike in that way. I tend to be more short sighted."

Hermione nodded, understanding. "Did you get that report from Moody?"

Minerva nodded, handing over the folder she'd just received from the Head of the Auror Department. The man was well known for sticking to the rule book, and yet when Hermione had requested it of him, he'd ignored protocol and sent to her his report on the questioning of Barty Crouch Junior, the man who'd been impersonating Viktor Krum all year long. Viktor himself, Minerva already knew, had been located in a flat belonging to Crouch, in London. The boy had been captured and replaced directly after his name had been pulled out of the Goblet. Crouch had felt it best to replace a Champion, and opted to go with the one whom he felt it easiest to impersonate the personality of.

"Anything useful?" the Scottish woman inquired, after watching Hermione pour over the file for a minute or two further.

"The Triwizard Cup was a Portkey," Hermione shared. "It led to a graveyard in Little Hangleton, near a marker for one Thomas Riddle."

"Voldemort's father?"

"I suspect so. If Albus hasn't already shared with Moody what Voldemort was originally called, I need to. Those bones need to be destroyed. Riddle Senior's bones, I mean," the younger women mused.

"Why?"

"The Renovamen Potion is why," came a scoff.

"Which is?"

Minerva both loved and hated how Hermione's knowledge often outstripped her own. It was nice to have a partner who could challenge her, but when it came to some topics, Hermione tended to behave as if she thought Minerva _should_ know about it. For all of her wonderful qualities, the brunette quickly frustrated when having to explain herself to another adult. Minerva wondered where the age cut off was in the younger witch's mind. She was never short with the boys, or any other student under her care. She also tended to be gentle with even people in their twenties. Beyond that, her patience had a limit.

Hermione sighed, which Minerva expected. "It's a potion which, with a certain ritual, can regenerate a wizard's body, whatever it's state. One can be moments from death, and this ritual will save their life. Riddle's bones must be destroyed because the bones of the subject's father are required, along with a servant's flesh, and an enemy's blood, to complete the potion. If I were to guess, I'd expect that Voldemort planned for Harry to get to that graveyard - _the enemy's blood_ \- and that there was some Death Eater willing to cut off his own hand for the _flesh_. The bones of his father, obviously, were already there."

"Sounds like a dark potion. How do you even know about it?" Minerva asked. Her tone wasn't accusatory, she was merely curious.

Hermione grinned. "I read a lot."

Minerva chuckled. "That you do."

Placing the file in a drawer, Hermione stood and walked around her desk, pulling Minerva tightly against her. "Have I told you today that I love you?" she purred.

The older woman shivered as Hermione's hot breath caressed her neck. "Not today…"

Minerva decided very quickly that it was good thing dinner was not for another hour, as they spent the following forty minutes rather occupied in Hermione's bedroom. They had to rush dressing, before heading down to the end of term feast.

They took a moment to speak to Harry about plans for transport to the cottage later that evening, before they moved to the Head Table and took their places. About halfway through dinner, an unfamiliar Owl swooped in and dropped a letter in front of Hermione. Recognizing the Ministry seal, Hermione opened it at once. Minerva watched as the Defense Professor read, concern mounting as the frown on the brunette's face from page one of the missive morphed into a look of utter shock as she read page two. Hermione finished reading, blinked for a few minutes at absolutely nothing, and then turned at looked at Minerva. "Bloody hell," she eeped out, still looking completely blindsided. This, of course, worried the elder woman even more, given how utterly rare it was for anything at all to surprise Hermione.

"What is it?" Minerva whispered.

Hermione handed her the letter in reply. "I need to go to the Ministry at once - you'll understand why after you read _that_ ," she said, standing. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. Let Harry know we'll be heading to the cottage a little later than planned."

"Of course," she replied. As soon as Hermione had left the table, Minerva turned her attention to the correspondence in front of her.

The first page read:

3 July, 1995

 _Madam Slytherin,_

 _The following page is a copy of a letter to you from one Petunia Dursley, who regrettably died last evening. Despite being Muggle, our offices have already confirmed the legality of the request she's made of you, and found it to be sound. If you chose to fulfil said request, you will have the support of the Ministry. We will, of course, assist in dealing with the legalities in the Muggle Ministry._

 _Regards,_

 _Atticus Bowman, Muggle Liaison Department_

Minerva, just as Hermione had, frowned at the news that Harry's aunt had passed away. While there was certainly no love between the boy and his former guardians, the Muggle woman was still family. Minerva made a mental note to let Severus know of Petunia's passing, as he'd known her just as he'd known Lily Potter, the three of them having grown up in the same neighborhood. Then, Minerva turned her attention to the second page. It was a letter from Petunia, to Hermione.

 _24 June, 1995_

 _Dear Amelia,_

 _If you are reading this, then two things have happened. First, I am dead. Second, my death came about at the hands of my husband Vernon. After you removed Harry from our care, my husband turned his violent nature toward myself and my son. I've tried my best to shield Dudley from this, but I know that protecting my son may ultimately cost me my own life. I finally understand my sister and what she did for Harry, though it pains me that it's too late for me to apologize to Lily._

 _As I sit here writing this, I'm in the process of trying to find a way for Dudley and I to get away from Vernon. While I try to remain hopeful I'll find a way soon, I have always been a realist, and I know I'm running out of time. So, I compose this letter and first thing tomorrow I'll be sending it to your Ministry. I've also made sure my will makes mention of this letter._

 _I am naming you as the legal guardian for my son Dudley, should the worst come to pass. If Vernon has killed me then he'll of course be going to prison, and the only other living family Dudley has at this point would be his aunt, Marge. Marge Dursley makes Vernon look like a saint, if you catch my drift. She's the last person I'd want to raise Dudley. More than wanting to keep my son away from that horrible woman, I want Dudley to have the chance to do what I never did - to embrace the Wizarding part of his family. To learn to appreciate and respect magic, not resent it and fear it the way I did when Lily went off to Hogwarts. I was a fool, and it cost me everything. I lost my sister. I lost my nephew. And now, it seems I've lost my life._

 _The could-have-beens keep rolling through my mind. I wonder, had Lily and I remained close, if I might have some wizarding friends, through her, that could be helping me get away from Vernon now. In reality, had I loved my sister instead of being a jealous bigot, then perhaps I'd have never married Vernon in the first place. Of course, were that the case, I wouldn't have my son, and I could never regret his life. There's good in him. He has the potential to grow into a wonderful, caring young man. I'm sure Harry will recount the times Dudley bullied him, and I'm not denying it, but having to watch his father beat me has made my son grow up._

 _I watched him cry over a mouse caught in a trap yesterday. I didn't have to ask why - I knew he was thinking about the symbolic nature of it all. Vernon controls all the money in this house, and keeps rather good track of it. I am the mouse, I am trapped, and if you're reading this… well, you know._

 _I'm not sure how it works in the wizarding world, but I know in my world an assigned guardian can refuse the task. I beg of you, don't turn Dudley away. He needs someone who can be kind when he needs kindness, who can be firm when he needs to be shown his error. I could tell, the day we met, you are exactly that sort of person. I could see the tenderness in your eyes when you said my nephew's name, and I could see the furry in how he'd been treated._

 _For what it's worth, tell Harry that I'm sorry I didn't do more to protect him while he lived with us. And tell him that my death is not his fault - nor it is yours - for Vernon turning on me as a response to Harry leaving with you. Vernon is the only one who is to blame. Me, too, for being fool enough to have not left when I saw how he treated Harry._

 _Tell my son I love him, so very much._

 _Sincerely Yours,_

 _Petunia Evans-Dursley_

"Bloody hell," Minerva muttered to herself, again echoing Hermione's sentiments. How on earth were they going to raise a muggle boy in the middle of everything else going on? She knew Hermione well enough that there was absolutely no way she was going to deny Petunia's last request, no matter what anyone else thought. Even Harry.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	28. Chapter 28

**You know, it's pretty much my standard to have my chapters be between 2200 and 2300 words. For some damn reason the chapters for Telling Time seem to be, on a low side, at least 2500. This one is almost 3k outright. I am beginning to understand why "Bonding" chapters tend to be so long. The more characters and subplots you add, the more info needs packed into a particular scene. That said, I am not 'asouldreams', and there is no way in hell my chapters will ever be 10k each. I can see a pivotal chapter hitting 4k, but that's gunna be the high point. Anyway, my rambling aside, enjoy the chapter. Yes, I know, this one (just like the last) is from Minerva's POV... I promise the next one will be from Hermione's POV. I just felt like Minerva needed some developing so she got double time in the spotlight.**

* * *

Minerva sometimes thought that Albus believed she was capable of doing the work of three people. After the last few weeks, despite her exhausted state, she was beginning to believe he was right. Directly after term had let out, Albus had begun the process of reactivating the Order of the Phoenix - an organization of witches and wizards who had banded together when Voldemort had first risen to power with the united goal of seeing to his downfall. While his plan had been foiled some two months prior, Albus thought, and Minerva and the rest of their core group agreed, that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort tried to resurrect himself again, and they all knew that they'd stopped him _this time_ by the skin of their proverbial teeth. They might not be so lucky again.

In addition to assisting Albus with the reactivation of the Order, Minerva still had the usual tasks to see to as Deputy Head and a Professor of Hogwarts. Further, the first thing she always did when term let out for the summer hols was make her way to McGonagall Manor to reset the wards. While she was rarely at her ancestral home, there was much there she didn't want to fall into unscrupulous hands. More than that, she took a fair measure of comfort in knowing that she'd have a safe place to go at a moment's notice - especially in times of war. This year, the warding at the Manor was done with Albus, Severus, and Hermione's assistance, as it was to serve as Order Headquarters. Loathe as she was to let Leland Dourif anywhere near her home after all of these years, Minerva grudgingly admitted that the man had made sure progress in proving himself in the last year. She certainly didn't trust him, but he'd proven loyal to Hermione and for the time being, that was enough. At some point there would be a confrontation about the death of her uncle, but Minerva was level headed enough to know that now was not the time.

Beyond duty, Minerva was making a real effort to remain an active part of Hermione and Harry's life, and by extension, Sirius' life. That, as it happened, was next on her list of things to do. While the boy had assured her that he completely understood if she couldn't make it to his birthday party, Minerva wanted Harry to know he was a priority to her. While Hermione was obviously filling the role of _mother_ that the orphan had been lacking, and Minerva didn't begrudge that for them, she too felt a maternal draw to her student. He was quickly becoming the son she'd never had. With a smile on her face and a quick glamour charm to mask the obvious lack of sleep, she raised her hand and knocked on the door of their cottage.

Harry's grin couldn't have gotten any wider when he answered the knock and saw his Professor. "Minerva!" he exclaimed. "I didn't think you'd be able to make it!"

"I was not about to miss your birthday if it could be helped," she replied, ruffling his hair. "Now, young man, who all is here today?"

"Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Mrs. Weasley, Neville, Cedric, Sirius," Harry listed off. "Professor Snape and Professor Dourif are here too, but I don't think it's for the party."

"I'd imagine they needed to talk to your godmother about something or other," Minerva agreed.

Harry offered a mischievous grin. "You should have seen Professor Snape's face when 'Melia pointed out it's my birthday. She told him in that sort of way that makes it clear she was expecting him to wish me well."

Minerva snorted. "How did that go?"

"He glared at her. She glared back. He got all uncomfortable looking and then actually managed to wish me a happy birthday and a safe year to come," Harry chuckled. "But yeah, the look on his face - like he'd swallowed a bunch of lemon drops - I'm counting that as a present."

"I trust you thanked him."

Harry smiled. "Of course. I even managed to do so without laughing."

Mirth danced in Minerva's eyes and with a hand on the boy's shoulder, she followed him down the hall toward the kitchen. She was surprised when she found no one but Molly and Leland sitting there, reminding the Scottish witch that the two knew each other.

"Good afternoon, Molly," Minerva greeted. "Dourif."

"Minerva!" Molly exclaimed, jumping up to hug her. "Glad you could make it. Leland and I were just catching up. It's been ages!"

"I believe young Ginny was three or four the last we spoke," Dourif agreed. "Perhaps next term we could make more time to visit, though Merlin knows Madam Slytherin will be keeping me plenty busy."

"I thought you were not returning to Hogwarts next year," Minerva interjected.

"I'm not," the grey haired man replied. "However much I'd like to go back to where I was before, Madam Slytherin has another task in mind for me."

"You could say _no_ ," the Scottish women quipped, wishing dearly that he would.

"Ha!" Dourif laughed. "You try telling her _no_ and see how well that works. What that woman wants, she gets. Best remember that, Mister Potter. Your godmother is not a woman to cross."

"Yeah," the boy agreed sheepishly. "Already learned that the hard way."

"Learned what the hard way?"

Minerva looked up at the sound of Hermione's voice coming down the stairs, followed by Severus, who looked cranky as usual. He also looked rather chastised, and Minerva made a mental note to ask Hermione about it later. Likely, she was giving him yet another pep talk on how he should be treating his best friend's son.

"That if I cross you, there's no chance of getting away with it," Harry answered. "By the way, what's the chances of getting my map back now that the tournament is over?"

"Are you prepared to tell me what you were doing with it when I caught you out of bed past curfew?" his godmother asked sternly.

"No," Harry grumbled.

"We'll talk about it more later," she promised. "Meanwhile, it's your birthday. How about you go out back and play Quidditch with your friends."

"Hard to play Quidditch without goals," he mumbled.

Hermione glanced at Minerva, raising an eyebrow. The two of them had discussed ahead of time what to get for Harry's birthday - a home sized Quidditch pitch, the balls to go with it - and everything was already set up and under a concealment charm so that the children wouldn't know it was there. The children visiting today had already been informed of the intended gift, and had secretly brought brooms of their own along to play with. Sirius had gotten his own broom, a few weeks prior, as a reward for good behavior from Hermione. As Harry often complained about what a waste it was to have such a large yard and no goal posts, Minerva and Hermione had agreed that they'd wait to show him the gift till he did so. All it really took was one hint from Hermione and he'd stepped right into the proverbial trap.

"How about we go out back and see what sort of trouble the rest of the group is getting into," Minerva suggested.

Severus and Dourif took their leave, both needing to report to Albus and Order matters, and after bidding farewell to the men, Minerva, Hermione, and Molly all followed Harry out to the back yard.

"There's the birthday boy!" Ron said, grinning.

"What are you guys up to?" Harry asked, grinning back at his friends.

"We were just debating who would play what if we had a pitch to play Quidditch," Cedric replied. "We figure your godfather could be talked into playing, so that would be four to a team; a seeker, a beater, a chaster, and a keeper on each."

Harry eagerly joined the conversation. "Well I'm seeker for one side, for sure."

"I'd play seeker for the other team," Ginny mused.

"Chaser for me," Cedric claimed. "Neville, you'd be a great chaser as well."

The usually shy boy grinned. "I was thinking the same, though I've never played so someone would have to fill me in on the rules. Watching the games at school only tells me so much."

"Beaters!" Fred and George declared together. Minerva was curious, with how well they worked together as beaters, how they'd fare against each other.

"Well I wanted Keeper," Ron agreed. "So as long as Sirius doesn't mind playing keeper as well, it looks like everyone would be getting the spot they want. Would be a pretty great game, don't you think?"

As the teens had been debating who would play what, Minerva had silently dropped the concealment charm. She liked to think she knew Harry rather well at this point, and she thought it most likely that the next time he'd look behind him into the yard would be after positions were decided. Right on cue, Harry mournfully turned his head.

At once, his entire body twisted, eyes wide. "Sweet Merlin, there's a Quidditch pitch in my yard!" he exclaimed. "I don't know who did this but you're the best person in the whole wide world."

The whole group laughed as Harry just stared some more, standing with his hands on his knees, looking like he was afraid if he blinked it would vanish. "I can't believe there's a Quidditch pitch in my bloody yard…" he muttered weakly. Minerva was actually starting to worry the boy was going to pass out from excitement.

"As it happens, all of us brought brooms along today," Cedric said suggestively. "What do you think, Harry?"

"I think I can't wait to tell Dean and Seamus when we get back to Hogwarts. They're going to be so jealous!" Harry said, grinning.

"I think Cedric had a more short termed thought in mind," Ron said, elbowing his long time friend. "Like maybe, let's play?"

Harry's stupid grin got even bigger. "I'm in!"

Minerva and Hermione were standing close enough together than when it crossed Harry's mind a minute later that the only people who could have made this happen where the two of them, he was able to grab both of them into a huge hug at once. Verbal thanks seemed unnecessary.

"You're welcome," Minerva said, chuckling.

"Best parents _ever_ ," Harry muttered to himself as he walked back toward his friends a minute later, which while probably unintended to reach their ears, both Hermione and Minerva heard.

Molly edged her way toward them a moment later. "Well ladies, if you are _officially_ the parents of Harry," she said with a small smile. "Then I suppose they we ought to discuss what _your_ son's intentions are with _my_ son."

"Really Molly, is this the time?" Minerva tried to evade.

"Have you something more pressing to discuss?"

"As it happens, I'd been meaning to ask you about your relationship with Dourif," the Scottish woman said matter-of-fact.

"He and my father were good friends," Molly replied. "I've known him all my life, and trust him completely."

"Despite the fact that you are aware he's probably a murderer?" Minerva countered.

"Min…" Hermione said weakly.

"I don't doubt he's killed," Molly agreed as they both ignored the youngest of their group.

"And that doesn't _bother_ you?"

"Given that I know why he does it, no."

"Pray tell, why does he get a pass on being a murderer? What gave him the right to decide who lives and dies?" Minerva snapped. "He killed my uncle!"

Molly frowned. "I don't know what your uncle did to deserve being at the business end of Leland's wand, however I am certain there was a good reason. Leland only kills those who are getting away with heinous crimes."

"Such as?"

"Such as the man who raped me and fathered Charlie," Molly snapped.

Hermione sighed sadly, and Minerva could tell that she'd already been aware of this shocking truth. It was shocking enough to calm her temper, that was for sure. "Molly I am so sorry. Does Charlie know?"

"No," Molly said softly. "Arthur and I agreed that, especially since his biological father would never try to claim him, that we'd perform the _sanguifiliorum_. Interestingly, it's Charlie that is closest to Arthur. The most like him."

The sanguifiliorum was an old, pureblood tradition. The spell and ritual that went with it would overwrite a child's DNA to make them resemble an adopted parent. Most commonly, it was used by Pureblood couples whom could not have a child at all. The couple in question would adopt a magical infant and do the casting, and no one including the child would ever suspect that he or she was not the couple's child by birth. The child didn't have to be an infant at the time, however. It would work so long as the child was under the age of seventeen. It was for this reason that the age of majority in the Wizarding world was that very age.

"Charlie will not find out through us," Hermione promised Molly, and Minerva nodded in agreement.

"Minerva," Molly said with a sigh. "I understand that you find it hard to trust Leland because of what he did to your uncle, but I strongly suggest that you talk to him - ask him why your uncle was chosen. I believe that will change your perspective."

"I'll consider it," Minerva agreed.

"Now," Molly said cheerfully. "Back to Harry and Ron…"

Later that night, Hermione was seeing the last of the guests to the door and Minerva offered to help Harry take his gifts up to his room, giving her a bit of one on one time with her surrogate son. "How are things going with you and Ron?" she asked casually. "I don't imagine the transition between friends and something more is easy.

If Harry was surprised that she was aware of what was developing between he and Ron, the boy didn't show it. "Well enough. Well, easy in a lot of ways. Actually, it's bloody complicated… I don't suppose you know what I mean."

Minerva chuckled. "I do know what you mean. It was much the same between myself and my former partner. We had been friends for years, and then suddenly… there was more."

"What happened to your boyfriend?" Harry asked, looking curious.

"Girlfriend," the Scottish witch corrected. "I have never in my life looked at a male in a romantic context."

Harry grinned. "Hermione used to tell me and Ron she thought you were gay. Not that we believed her. Merlin, I miss her so much, especially on holidays and birthdays. I never would have imagined life without her being my best friend… and then suddenly she wasn't there anymore. And I feel guilty for the days I can forget that she's gone. Mostly I feel a bit buggered not having her around to be the voice of reason. Like with Dudley coming to lie with us, I kind of hate him for it, because I finally found a place with a family and I'm happy… and then the kid who used to use me as a punching bag is going to come in and mess with that. On the other hand, I feel bad for him. I know what it feels like to lose a mum."

"When is Dudley coming?" Minerva asked, having not had a chance to get an update from Hermione.

"Three days," Harry replied. "Sirius and I have been working on decorating the room that 'Melia added to the house. No idea why, but she's dead set on keeping the guest room available for guests. It never gets used. When Ron stays over, he's in my room with me. No one else spends the night… well, I guess you do now and then. Guess that's a good reason to keep the guest room. I like it when you're around."

Harry was rambling, as he was prone to do when he was tired. As such, she flicked her wand and transfigured his jeans and jumper into nightwear, and pointed toward his bed. He nodded sheepishly, stifling a yawn, and did as she was suggesting. Minerva sat on the edge of his bed and stroked his hair as he smiled contentedly. "I believe that if Hermione were here, she'd tell you that the boy who used to bully you probably died the day his mother did. Dudley will be different, that much I don't doubt. It will be up to you to set an example for him. If you treat him as a brother, I suspect that in time, he will regard you as such."

"Good advice," Harry murmured sleepily. "Gunna pass out now… g'night M'nerva."

"Goodnight, dear boy," she whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his temple. "Happy dreams."

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW! With enough positive feedback on this fic, I may be inclined to make this my NaNo project this year... to get a chapter hammered out a day. That won't come close to actually finishing the story, but if this is chapter 28, and I'm sure I'll get at least two or three more before November first (I said at least!), then making this the NaNo project would effectively double the length of this fic in the matter of a month. So yes, PLEASE REVIEW! :)**


	29. Chapter 29

**Oh bloody hell these chapters keep getting longer. You lucky fans. :P Enjoy!**

* * *

Hermione gave Harry a smile as they walked toward the market together. He, of course, would have preferred to fly, but even setting aside her own dislike for brooms, it was a muggle market and still within the anti apparation wards Hermione had put up when they moved here. It was only two miles. Harry would manage just fine. They could, of course, shrink the groceries after purchase so the walk back didn't include lugging a handful of heavy sacks. "Easy Harry," she commented, noting her wards brisk pace. "We're in no hurry. I've nothing to do till I go get your cousin this afternoon."

Harry frowned at the remembrance. "What if he messes everything up, 'Melia?"

"How do you mean?" she asked. "I am certainly not going to tolerate any bullying if he thinks of trying to revisit that activity with you."

"No, I don't think he even would. Losing his mum, seeing what Uncle Vernon did, I don't think he's the same guy anymore," the boy replied. "I mean he's going to need a lot of attention. And what if… what if you and Sirius start to like him more?"

Hermione stopped in her tracks, turned to face her ward, placing a hand on each of his shoulders. "Harry, I know this is going to be an adjustment, but nothing, and I mean absolutely _nothing_ will negate my love for you. Yes, in time I may come to love Dudley in much the same way I love you - as a son - but I will not pick favorites. I certainly don't pick favorites between my daughters."

Harry blinked. "You have kids?"

Hermione internally cursed at her careless remark in her effort to assure Harry. "One daughter with my first husband, and another with a lover some years later. Both passed away a long time ago," she said carefully. She still hated to lie to Harry, but it was getting harder and harder to share things that didn't give away clues to her origins."

"Wow," Harry mumbled, looking sorry it had come up. "Are you still in touch with their dads?"

"My elder daughter's father passed away some years before she did," she replied. "My second daughter died rather young, and her mum died a few years after she did."

Harry raised an eyebrow about the fact that his godmother had mothered a child with another woman, but said nothing of it. He was certainly in no place to judge a same-sex relationship. "Guess a lot of people died during the war," he said sadly. "What were their names? Your daughters?"

"Lucy and Helena," she replied with a smile, glad for once to be able to answer in complete honesty. It was such a rare thing for her to be able to do. Hell, she hadn't even gotten around to telling Minerva about Helena. "I trust you will keep this information to yourself, Harry. I do not talk about my past to many people, and prefer to keep the existance of my family from back then secret."

"Siri knows, I bet," Harry assumed. "And Minerva."

"And Mrs. Weasley. None of them knows about Helena," she replied. "Though I'd been meaning to tell at least Minerva. Please keep that part to yourself if you must discuss it at all."

"Why tell them about one daughter, but not the other?" he asked, suspiciously.

Well. Hermione had to stop and think of how to answer that one without outright lying. "I was the proverbial _father_ regarding Helena. I was not aware of her conception, nor her birth, until after both she and her mother had passed away. I was able to gain access to some memories left by Helena, which is how I've been able to get to know what sort of girl she was. I've only just recently learned all this. I've merely not had a chance to speak to Minerva or Sirius about it."

Hermione was very nearly glad when there was a sudden chill in the air and a feel of dread, putting a complete stall in Harry's questioning. Nearly, as that feeling could only mean the presence of a Dementor from Azkaban, though how on earth one could be _here_ of all places was concerning to say the least.

"Is that…?" Harry asked through chattering teeth, remembering the very day they'd met as three black robed figures glided towards them, the ground at their feet beginning to frost over.

"Stay close," she ordered sharply, pulling out her wand, and drawing on her memory to find something happy to draw on. As her time with Salazar, Rowena, and the rest were in the forefront of her mind at the present, her mind drifted to the distant past.

 _She was sixteen, and she was teaching the Founders the Patronus Charm. There had been recent attacks from wizards and witches upset with them for trying to buck tradition and create a school to educate wizarding children at. Many did not want to lose the loyalty having seventeen years of undivided influence purchased. Yesterday, Octavius LaFoy had set dread creatures upon them, which he'd supposedly summoned with black magic from another plane of existence. Dementors, he called them, though Hermione already knew that. She, having learned the charm aside Harry during their shared third year, eagerly showed the others how to defend against Dementors, which had earned her a bit of respect within the group._

" _High arc, back to front, and in incantation is_ Expecto Patronum _. You have to be thinking of a very happy memory or it won't work at all. The stronger the memory, the more effective the charm. Dementors take away all thought of happiness, and so overwhelming happiness is the only defense against them."_

 _It was one of the few times Hermione could remember seeing Salazar struggle with someone. Rowena, too, for that matter. Helga and Godric were well used to having to work at getting new spells down, so they didn't mind when their first few attempts fizzled out. It took nearly an hour of trying, and several bars of chocolate, but Salazar was the first to get it right, a large cobra shooting out his wand tip. "I got it Hermione!" he said with a childlike glee. "I got it!"_

" _Expecto Patronum,_ " Hermione said softly, clinging to the memory of his smile. It was not a cobra, or a raven that flew out of her wand, nor was it an otter like it had been some months prior. Once more, to her surprise, her Patronus had changed form. This time, it was a growling lioness that sprang forth, attacking the Dementors with a fierceness not unlike Hermione recalled seeing on Minerva's face the night Harry's name had been pulled from the Goblet of Fire.

As the lioness continued to chase the Dementors as though they were nothing more than mice, the memories fueling the Patronus stopped being about Salazar and Rowena, and images of Minerva began to take their place. If she hadn't already known, she knew now that she was completely, utterly, and irrevocably in love with her former Head of House. Life really was funny.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think to bring any chocolate," she said, turning to a still shaking Harry once the creatures were gone. "I'd suggest we turn back and head home, but we're closer to the market than home at this point, and we can just as easily get some there."

Harry nodded, not saying a word. She cast warming charms on both she and her ward before urging him to keep walking, this time at a faster pace. Fifteen minutes later, they were feeling much better as they split a bar of chocolate, and after quickly getting the groceries they needed, they headed home. Hermione made a mental note to talk to Albus and Minerva about adjusting the way the wards were layered, so that the anti-apparation ward could be removed by her in case of emergency. On the other hand, it crossed her mind that the Dementors may have been sent in the hopes that she _would_ drop the wards to get herself and Harry to safety, allowing for other assailants to launch a surprise attack. The fact that her location had been compromised enough to even sent the Dementors was troublesome in its own right. Yes, she needed to have a very serious talk with her Secret Keeper, lover, and the other people who had access to her location.

A few hours later, after stressing to Sirius that he needed to keep an eye on Harry at all times while she was gone in case there was another attack, Hermione Flooed first to the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts, and then after stopping in to say hello to her lover, she Flooed from Minerva's office to the Ministry of Magic. She'd made it nearly to the elevators when she bumped into the last people she really wanted to deal with right now.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

"Oh, excuse us," Lucius said briskly, before stopping and doing a double take. "Oh my," he uttered, flashing a smile. "I had heard the rumours, but it is an _honor_ to meet you, Madam Slytherin. I am…"

"Lucius Malfoy," Hermione finished for him. Even if she hadn't already done research on the Malfoy heir and seen pictures of he and his family, she'd have known it was him in any case. The man was the spitting image of Octavius LaFoy, and from what she could tell, just as bigoted and big headed. "Your son speaks… very highly of you."

"Good to hear, Madam," Lucius said smoothly. "Though I believe my wife and I would like to get to know you ourselves, whenever you can find the time. Isn't that right, my dear?" he asked his wife.

"Well of course," Narcissa agreed with a genuine smile. "We must have you to dinner sometime. You and your husband, if you have remarried in recent years."

Hermione laughed a little. "Mrs. Malfoy, while yes, I am indeed married, I very much doubt my husband would be welcome in your home. It's in poor taste to invite disowned relatives to dinner parties, I believe."

Lucius looked confused, though Narcissa understood at once. "Oh my," she uttered. "Forgive me, but how on earth do you manage to put up with _that man_?"

"With unimaginable patience," Hermione bantered, almost enjoying the sense of humor Narcissa seemed to have. "As I'm sure you can relate to, marriages are so often made for the sake of allegiance rather than love. I required Sirius' name. Sirius required a spouse without a Prison record in order to gain custody of his godson."

"Harry Potter," Lucius spat.

"I'd thank you to mind your tongue regarding my ward," she said sharply, frowning at Lord Malfoy. "Your son has managed to improve his behavior around Harry, and I'd hate to think that your teenaged son has more sense of decorum than his father."

Lucius suddenly looked regretful he'd thought to invite her to dinner, though Hermione noticed a subtle quirk of Narcissa's lip, betraying her amusement at the chastisement. "Of course," Lucius said stiffly. "Forgive me. Old habits die hard. The Malfoy and Potter lines have rarely seen eye to eye."

That was the bloody truth, Hermione thought wryly.

"Of course," Lucius added smoothly. "I will of course submit to the _Lex Excetra_. Whatever you wish, Madam Slytherin."

"Thank you," she said with a curt nod. "Now, I'm afraid I am here on business, to which I must attend. Good day to you both."

"And to you," Narcissa said with a smile. Lucius just nodded in return, not inclined to exchange pleasantries. Hermione didn't image she was anything like he'd imagined. She would not be surprised if, when forming the Serpent Accord, Salazar and the others had neglected to mention her muggleborn heritage when passing along the memory of her role in the early years of Wizarding society in the United Kingdom.

A few minutes later, Hermione was standing in the office of Atticus Bowman and shaking the man's hand. "Good to finally meet you in person, Madam," he greeted.

"You as well, Mr. Bowman," she replied. "Where is Dudley?"

"With my aide," Atticus replied. "I wanted to talk to you about a few things before we go fetch him."

Hermione nodded and took a proffered seat. "Go on."

"The boy was there when his mother died," the Muggle Liaison Officer continued. "Not sure if he saw it or just heard it, but he was there. Called the Bobbies - muggle version of the Auror office, that is…"

"I'm very familiar with the muggle world," Hermione interjected. "No need to explain the terminology."

Atticus nodded. "Anyway, he called the Bobbies, and they heard the boy's father screaming profanities in the background, shouting about how it was all the mother's fault, how she deserved to die, and so forth. Bobbies came in quite a hurry, of course, but she was dead when they arrived. Since the call young Dudley made, he hasn't said a word. Not a bloody peep from him."

"How has your office been communicating with him then?" she asked with a frown.

"Basically a game of yes and no questions," Atticus replied sadly. "We're hoping he'll open up again in time, but you needed to know what you were getting today. It's also been hard getting him to eat. I've seen pictures of him from as recent as a year ago and he was a great tub of a boy, but you'd hardly know it was the same lad now. Wouldn't quite call him twig like at this point, but he's obviously not been eating well in at least six months. We've got him taking Nutrition Potions, which has put some color back into his skin, but he can't stay on them for the rest of his life. Getting him to eat again is gunna be a trick, though I daresay with more portion control than he had up till recently."

Hermione nodded, remembering how Harry had told she and Ron that Dudley ate like a pig and looked like one too. Yes, getting Dudley healthy - physically, mentally, and emotionally - would be top priority. Any behavior problems would be addressed along the way, though her instincts said that after what he'd been through, she was probably getting as close to a clean slate child as could be had. The boy Harry had known had died when his mother had. While he'd certainly have issues after facing such a trauma, she and Minerva agreed, most of the problems Harry had described regarding his behavior were largely instilled by Vernon, who Dudley would be the least inclined to emulate after witnessing him murdering his own wife. "Anything else?" she inquired.

"Well, not that I suppose it matters much in the grand scheme, but it's standard procedure for this situation to test blood status, just in case the paternity comes into question," Atticus said, offering a file which presumably held the test results and the rest of Dudley's medical records. "And much to our collective surprise, it seems that Dudley is the son of two Squibs. Now, since the parents were listed as muggle, I did some checking, and get this. If both parents are Squib, a kid comes out registering as Squib as well. Which means that bother Petunia and Vernon Dursley came from wizarding lineage. I took the liberty of tracing back, and found that Vernon's maternal grandmother was a witch who married a muggle. Petunia's case was even more fluke like - her parents were both Squib, all four grandparents were Squib, and both sets of great grandparents were one magical, one muggle. Petunia's parents had a fifty-fifty shot at producing a magical child, and of course everyone knows Lily Potter was a brilliant witch. Likewise, Petunia and Vernon had a fifty-fifty shot of producing a magical child. Had young Dudley had a sibling, they may have been magical. Like I said, not really important in the grand scheme, but I thought perhaps it might help Dudley adjust to the wizarding world if he knows that it is in fact his birthright to do so. He'll be able to see and visit Hogwarts or Diagon Alley, just like any other Squib."

Hermione took all this info in, filing it in the mental box of things to discuss with Minerva. She knew, just before she'd left for the present, Rowena had been working on a Potion to activate the magical gene in Squibs, though it had not yet been finished. If Hermione could find the notes her former lover had left, or even the completed formula, there was a chance that Dudley could do a hell of a lot more than just _visit_ Hogwarts. Perhaps she was being selfish, but it would be quite a bit easier to deal with a new ward if he could learn to protect himself from the harm being around she and Harry would inevitably bring. Of course, she'd never force it upon him. If Hermione could find the Potion, completed or completable, then she'd offer him a choice, list of pros and cons included. "Alright then, if there's nothing else - we did the paperwork via Owl - I'd like to meet my new ward."

"Of course," Atticus agreed. "This way."

Two rooms down, Dudley sat with the aide, looking with mild interest at a Quidditch magazine. He looked up when the door opened, a flicker of fear in his eyes though it vanished when she offered him a soft smile. She approached silently, taking a seat beside him and reaching out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. Hermione wasn't going to be pushy, but she wanted him to know that she was not going to hurt him. "Hello Dudley," she said softly. "My name is Amelia. Your mum asked that I look after you."

The boy looked at her and blinked, though it was no surprise when he said nothing.

"Are you ready to go to your new home?" she asked patiently.

There was some hesitation, justifiably so as she was a perfect stranger to him. All Hermione had authorized Atticus to tell Dudley about her was that she was his guardian at his mother's request, and that she was the one who'd taken custody of his cousin, Harry. Hermione hadn't wanted the boy to be startled when he was suddenly sharing living space with the cousin he'd not so much as heard from in over a year.

Finally, Dudley took a breath and nodded yes. Hermione reached out with her magic, much in the way she did with Sorting children new to Hogwarts, to get a feel on his emotions at that moment. She was not going to break into his mind without his consent, of course, but this was more akin to what muggles called "Empath senses". For Dudley, there was of course some fear, and some guilt - probably related to Harry - but under all of that there was a definite sense of hope, and Hermione smiled at that, knowing just how far hope could take a broken heart.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	30. Chapter 30

**Something I forgot to mention in my last post: I've created a Facebook group for those following this story. There are pictures of the cast, memes with some of quotes from the story, access to info that may or may not end up in the story, and I write comments now and then about what I'm working on or offering insights to the story that you may not have considered. You should be able to find it by going to Facebook and just searching for a group called "Telling Time", but if not... here's the link** **www . facebook groups/ 198288197265532/ - Just remove the spaces. Hope to see some of you there!**

* * *

Minerva smiled when she saw Hermione step out of the Floo in the foyer of Prince Manor, the largely unused ancestral seat of Severus' maternal line. Cyrus, of course, was currently Lord Prince, though he lived most of the time in Romania at the Dragon Preserve. Severus' aunt, Annabeth, claimed not to want to live here all by herself, so had been keeping a flat in London until her father had ordered her to return to the manor a few months ago, to be Secret Keeper and Hostess for the Order of the Phoenix. She'd done so, grudgingly. It wasn't though she didn't fully support the Order, she merely did not enjoy being cooped up.

These last few months, Minerva and Albus had kept busy with recruiting, and tonight was the first official meeting. While Voldemort had not yet found a way to rise again, they all knew it was only a matter of time, and thus were on high alert. Albus wanted them more prepared than they were the last time, hopefully avoiding the mass casualties that had stricken them two decades prior. Albus would not be here for another half hour, nor would most others, but Minerva had come ahead to meet Remus Lupin, who would not only be inducted into the Order this evening, but also be told exactly who _Amelia Slytherin_ was. At first, Hermione had not wanted to tell him the full truth, but Minerva had pointed out that with his werewolf senses, he'd likely figure it out quickly enough, and after that point Hermione agreed it was better to tell him herself than risk him taking his speculations to someone who was not in the know.

Directly behind Hermione, Harry and Dudley popped through the Floo, and after the two of them, Sirius followed. "Sirius, why don't you take the boys up to the Library…"

Harry groaned. "It's still summer break!"

"And your cousin is new to our world, and might thank you to help him learn something about Wizarding society," she said with a disapproving glance.

The dark haired boy flushed. "Oh. Right then. I suppose I can help him find some good books."

"That's a good lad," Sirius praised. "I'll help you guys get started."

"I'll show you the way to the Library," a new voice said, gliding into the room.

"Annabeth," Minerva greeted.

"Good evening, Minerva," the Lady Prince replied. "And you must be Sirius Black, Amelia Slytherin, Harry Potter, and if my sources are correct, this strapping lad is Dudley Dursley."

While Dudley had yet to say a word, his face was fairly expressive, and an obvious blush swept over his cheek. He nodded politely, while Harry offered a casual wave. "Thanks for having us, ma'am," Sirius offered for the group. "You have a lovely home."

While verbally greeting the group as a whole, Annabeth's gaze had set on Hermione, and Hermione was staring right back. Minerva didn't sense any animosity between the witches, though both were suspicious of the other. "My father speaks very highly of you, _Amelia_ ," she said sharply. "His judgement is _usually_ quite good."

"I dare say you'd best form your own opinion, Annabeth," Hermione replied in an equally cool tone. "Though now is not the time. Is Remus already here?"

"In the dining room," she was informed. "Minerva can show you the way."

"Have fun with Remus!" Sirius called back as he and the boys moved to follow Annabeth up a flight of stairs. "I'll want to see the memory!"

"Bloody Marauders…" Hermione muttered under her breath, getting Minerva to chuckle.

"Are you ready, love?" the Scottish woman asked.

"Yes," the younger replied. "Let's go get this over with. I had not intended to tell him anything, let alone everything. I can't fault your reasoning, but that doesn't mean I'm thrilled about it."

Minerva patted her shoulder. "There, there," she teased. "You can't always get your way."

Hermione glared, though Minerva knew she hadn't really taken offence. It was a well deserved jibe. Two deep breaths about about twenty steps later, the two women walked into the dining room, where Remus Lupin was waiting, completely oblivious to the fact that his little world was about to be turned upside down. All Albus had told him was that he needed to arrive early so he could meet _Professor Slytherin_.

"Good afternoon, Mister Lupin," Hermione greeted.

"You must be Professor Slytherin," he replied in kind. "It's a…"

The ragged looking man stopped mid-sentence as his werewolf senses took in the fact that there was something familiar about this woman. Minerva and Hermione, of course, had been expecting this.

"Is there a problem, Moony?" Hermione asked, small grin forming on her face.

The use of his Marauder name caused him to look at her sharply. "How did you…"

"Remus Lupin. Former Professor at Hogwarts for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione rang off. "During your school days, your friends Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew became animagi so they could be with you during the full moon and your werewolf transformations. The four of you created a somewhat interactive map of Hogwarts, and called yourself _the Marauders_. You graduated top of your class despite your condition, and spent the following eight years post the death of your friend James in the company of the Flamels, learning what would probably be the equivalent of four different masteries, though legally, you cannot test for them, per your unfortunate affliction."

The man stared at her. "You smell familiar. But I know I've never met you."

"If I tell you that my name is not actually _Amelia_ , but rather _Hermione_ , would that put the pieces together for you?" she inquired, almost certain it would. He was a very smart man, after all.

Remus eyed her carefully, and then glanced at Minerva, before looking back at Hermione. He seemed to be thinking, and remembering information that probably seemed of little significance at the time, though now held the key to this puzzle. Finally, understanding dawned and the book he'd been holding fell to the ground with a thud. "Granger?" he breathed in little over a whisper.

Hermione nodded. "Once, yes. That girl had an accident with a time turner towards the end of her third year at Hogwarts, an accident which flung her back through time, where she remained until she'd found a way home, thirty years later."

"Where, or rather _when_ have you been?" he asked, eyes even wider.

"Where do you suppose I picked up my surname?" Hermione bantered. "A Gryffindor is hardly likely to take the name _Slytherin_ by random selection."

"That family is ancient and was around for a long time. I'm presuming you took the name of someone you married, but that still leaves about a twelve hundred year gap of time," he said with a wry grin. "One more clue?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She loved that Remus wanted to piece things together himself. He was so much like her in that regard. "I know more of Hogwarts' secrets than you could dream of," she offered. "As I was involved in the creation of many of them."

For some reason, the final _bomb_ of her life story seemed to impact him more than the fact that she was a time traveler whom he'd once taught. "Bloody fuckin' hell," he gaped. "You were married to _Salazar_ Slytherin? _The_ Salazar Slytherin?"

"Always the tone of surprise," Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Sweet Merlin," Remus muttered, grabbing the table for support.

"Now Remus," she said, snapping back to business, knowing Order members would be filing in at any moment. "To the general public, I am Amelia Slytherin, who happens to be a long lost relative of of Slytherin line, which I married into. My supposed husband is dead and I am remarried, though purely as a means to an end."

"Who did you marry?" Remus wanted to know.

"Me!" Sirius said, popping in. "Hermione, people are starting to come in, you need to wrap things up. Heya Moony!"

"You married _him_?" the werewolf gaped. "HIM?"

"For the sake of gaining custody of Harry, yes," Hermione replied. "And as I was saying, there are a good handful of people who are aware that I was the wife of Salazar Slytherin, though they know nothing about the time traveling. A rumor, started by my idiot husband and our friends, was passed down the line that I possessed a Sorcerers Stone, and thus have remained young all these years. The only reason I'm extending the full truth to you is because that nose of yours would have figured it out anyway, given time. Molly Weasley knows the full truth. Minerva, Albus, Rosmerta… am I forgetting anyone?"

"Well, me, obviously," Sirius huffed.

"And Dourif," Minerva reminded her with a bit of a huff. She still didn't know why _he_ had to be in the loop.

Hermione nodded. "Also, the only thing Harry knows, and Ron for that matter, is what the public knows. I am his godmother via my marriage to Sirius, and that's all he's to know for the time being. At some point, I'd like to tell him the truth, but not now. As far as he and Ron are concerned, Hermione Granger was pulled out of Hogwarts during her third year, and sent to an alternate school by her parents. She wrote them letters for a time, and they were able to meet up - _thanks to a de-aging potion_ \- at the World Cup last year. Miss Granger was killed in the attacks that night."

"Got it," Remus said.

"Sirius, how about you go tell Albus we're ready," Minerva suggested, hearing the increasing chatter outside the closed door. "I'm going to go check on the children, and then I'll be back."

"Thanks Min," Hermione offered, smiling softly at her lover.

Minerva took her leave, and after stopped for directions from Annabeth, she made her way up a flight of stairs, down a hallway all the way to the end, and walked into a rather expansive library. Given Severus' bibliophile tendencies, she couldn't say she was surprised to find it was a family trait. "You boys doing alright?" she asked, spotting Harry sprawled on the floor next to his cousin, pointing at pictures in a book about dragons.

"And girls!" Ginny Weasley piped in, who was sitting on a sofa next to Luna Lovegood. "Hey Professor."

"As I've told you before, Ginny," Minerva chided. "Outside of class _Minerva_ is perfectly acceptable. Hello, Miss Lovegood."

"Oh, outside of class, _Luna_ is fine, Minerva" the blond girl claimed.

Minerva did not recall giving the Ravenclaw permission to address her as such, but as the girl was friends with Harry and Harry was like a son to her, she supposed it was fine. A quick glance around the room also spotted Ron, who waved at her without even looking up from chess board he was sitting at, across from the soon to be second year Ravenclaw, Emma Dobbs. Watching the chess match intently was a year mate of Emma's, though Gryffindor, who Minerva couldn't place at the moment. If Emma was here, however, that meant Rosmerta was here as well, probably trying to drill Hermione about their sex life by now. Grand.

By the time Minerva reentered the dining room of Prince Manor, it was rather full. Hermione was there of course, with Leland on her right, Severus beside him, and Minerva took the empty seat to Hermione's left. She turned to politely greet the gentleman at her own left, only to smile brightly when she recognized him. "Robert Giles!"

The man grinned at her. "Hello Professor," he said. It's been some time.

Robert had been the pupil she judged all others against in her Transfiguration classes for over ten years, until Hermione Granger had unceremoniously made his skills look pale by comparison. He had been a bright boy, and one of her Gryffindors. She'd heard he'd married fellow Gryffindor Samantha McKay, who'd been a year behind him. Last year, their son Ethan had been sorted to Gryffindor - the boy she'd seen upstairs, in fact - though Albus had handled the boy's paperwork so she'd not seen her former students then either.

Minerva promised Robert they'd catch up later before glancing at the other faces. Most of them she'd been expecting to see: Pomona and Filius, Remus and Sirius, Cyrus and Annabeth, and of course Rosmerta. Given that she'd seen Luna upstairs it was no surprise to see Xeno here as well, and then there was Alistor Moody, as far away from Leland as he could get and still have a clear view of his nemesis. Of the Weasleys, aside from the two upstairs, Molly and Arthur were seated next to their three elder sons: Bill, Charlie, and Percy. The only real surprises other than Robert and Samantha was Amos Diggory and his son Cedric, as well as Cedric's fellow Triwizard Champion, Fleur Delacour. Albus, seated at the head of the table, cleared his throat and brought the meeting to order.

"Welcome, all of you," he said. "There are a few more in our number at this point who were unable to make it this evening, but we still need to be actively recruiting. We know that it's only a matter of time before Voldemort rises again, and the larger a head start we can have on recruiting, more the better. Before I open up the table to discussion, my current Defense Professor would like to introduce herself to those of you who don't already know."

Minerva noted most of the table looking confused, as all but Robert and Samantha had met her before. Of course, not everyone here already knew of her actual origins in the past, and while Remus had been told ahead because he was getting the _whole_ story, the others would be getting the part of the truth the old Pureblood lines were already aware of: that she was the wife of the one and only Salazar Slytherin. Some at the table - Leland, Cyrus, Albus, Sirius, and Molly already knew the whole truth, but others knew exactly nothing about the Defense Professor.

"Hello," Hermione greeted, standing up. "Most of you already know my name is Amelia Slytherin. The public is under the impression that I am the widow of some lost descended of that line, however this is not true. Albus and I agree that those of you here tonight deserve to know who I really am. My name _is_ Amelia Slytherin, however my husband was the one and only _Salazar_ Slytherin. I'm sure you all know who _he_ was."

Gasps and shocked expressions littered the room, and Minerva took in each reaction. Cedric and Fleur seemed more impressed than anything, though Amos looked wary. Like the younger members, Robert and Samantha seemed to find this truth decidedly interesting, though Minerva could tell that Robert was trying to puzzle out how exactly that was possible. Alistor, no surprise, looked more suspicious than anything, though having worked with Hermione in the capture of Barty Crouch Jr. was probably taking the edge off of that feeling. Filius and Pomona's expressions were pure and utter shock, causing Minerva to resist the urge to chuckle. Annabeth looked smug, which told Minerva what she and Hermione had long speculated - that she had indeed been inducted into the _Lex Excetra_.

Severus, however, it appeared had not been told by his grandfather or aunt. His expression would have been unreadable by most, though she knew him well enough to tell that the thought running through his mind right now was " _Ah-ha!"_ Severus had always known there was something off about his fellow Professor. Now he knew what, or at least, part of it. Minerva and Hermione knew it was just a matter of time before they'd have to tell him the whole truth, but for now, this would be enough to ease his mood toward her, and build a foundation of trust they would absolutely need in the future.

"I know that this may be disconcerting for some of you to learn," Hermione continued, "or that you may believe me to be lying. I assure you, I was in fact wed to Salazar, and knew Rowena, Godric, and Helga very well. I was there when Hogwarts was built. I can tell you more about the Founders than any history book ever could. There are a handful of rumours regarding how I've survived through the ages, and I'm sorry to disappoint, but the truth of that is not something I will be sharing. I will tell you that no dark magic was used. The Headmaster is aware of my doings in the last thousand years, and he trusts me. I hope that you can too."

"Thank you, Amelia," Albus said as Hermione took her seat again. "Now, on to other business. Remus Lupin has agreed to return to Hogwarts to assist with the Defense classes, as Leland Dourif has other obligations, and we do want to have as many Order members at Hogwarts protecting students as we can... "

Two hours later the meeting was over and most people hurried out the door to get back to their respective homes. No surprise to either woman, Severus lingered behind. "Amelia," he called. "The Sorting. Explain. _Now_."

Hermione laughed. "Still sore over that one, Severus?"

"Not sore. Just perplexed," he defended.

"I have an unusual talent for being able to read magical cores," Hermione explained. "It's not mind reading in the slightest, but more about emotions. Before there was a Sorting Hat, there was me. I sorted the children every year when the new batch arrived at our gates. When it was time for me to leave, part of my magical core was fused to a hat, along with a host of other enchantments that Salazar, Rowena and I developed just for that purpose. I can sort just as well as the Sorting Hat because a part of myself is inside of it."

"That's an incredible bit of magic," Severus said. "Now, I'm sure you can guess my next question…"

"How I survived the centuries is not up for discussion," Hermione stated firmly. "Perhaps, one day, but as it is a secret that if revealed could cost me and those I hold dearest _everything_ , you must understand why I am wary to share it with anyone who asks."

"You know, Minerva?" he asked, turning to the other woman.

Minerva was not surprised he was looking to her for answers. "I do, Severus," she said. "But I will not tell you either."

The Potions Master raised an eyebrow. "Nor would I expect you to betray Amelia's trust in such away, especially not in front of her. You're far too much the loyal Gryffindor."

Hermione laughed. "He's right on that count, Min."

"In any case," Severus continued, turning back to Hermione, "I merely asked because while I find Albus judgement to be questionable more often than not, Minerva's judgement has always been impeccable, so if she knows the full truth and still trusts you, that's good enough for me. For now."

"I do believe Severus Snape just paid you a compliment," Hermione teased. "Mark your diary."

Minerva smirked. "I shall indeed."

"You two really need to stop trying to see me as a _nice man_ ," their companion grumbled.

"But Severus!" Hermione said, looking aghast. "You _are_ a nice man."

With that comment, Hermione stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Severus' cheek, before skipping off toward the Library to find Harry, Dudley, and Sirius. Minerva couldn't help the deep belly chuckle that came out of her lips at the look of horror on on Severus face as he stared after her.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	31. Chapter 31

**I can't believe how these chapters keep getting longer and longer. This one tallies in at 3500 words. I do hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Hermione had disliked Draco Malfoy from the off when she'd been at school with him. She found that as an adult who was supposedly Pureblood, Draco treated her with far more kindness and respect. In fact, he'd seemed to be more curious than she'd have ever guessed, and given the proper guiding hand, he could grow into a well mannered young man, worthy of receiving her respect in turn. However much she may have disliked Draco all those years ago, Hermione decided after a long two hours over lunch at Malfoy Manor, she utterly _loathed_ Lucius. He was twice as arrogant as Draco had ever been, and five times the bigot. That said, the Lady of the house was growing on her more and more each time they met. This afternoon, when Narcissa had noticed Hermione white-knuckling her wand under the table as Lucius ran his mouth, the other witch and smirked at her, seemingly amused.

"I would apologize for Lucius," Narcissa said as she walked Hermione to the Floo in the foyer, "But I know he'll continue to rub you the wrong way and I fear it would become a redundant exercise that would hold little meaning, given we both know he's not the least bit sorry about his comments."

Hermione laughed outright. "Quite," she replied, "Though I'm pleased that you seem not to share some of his ideas."

"Most of them," Narcissa corrected with a sigh. "Alas, I was a Pureblood girl, married off to a Pureblood boy, without any say in the matter and the knowledge that he'd never change. I've tried to raise Draco to be different, but he still looks up to his father, as boys are prone to do. If I'd had a daughter, she'd probably hate her father utterly."

"You seem to be of good health," Hermione said. "Why didn't you have a second child?"

"Lucius got his heir. Now I get him _not_ touching me again," the other woman replied. "Further, due to a birth defect, it was very difficult to conceive Draco, and we were lucky I was able to carry him nearly to term. Even if I was with someone I loved, the risk to both myself and a child is too great."

Hermione nodded, understanding. "Well, I thank you for lunch, Lady Malfoy, and despite being fifty percent deplorable company, I do find I enjoyed _your_ company. I also have hope for your son. I don't believe he's so blind to his father's lack of moral fiber as he pretends to be."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "You were equally surprising company, Madam Slytherin. Until we meet again…"

Hermione took her cue, and stepped into the Floo directly after the powder had been thrown and her destination of Hogwarts had been stated clearly. To her surprise, Minerva was waiting at the other end of the Floo. "Hello darling," she greeted her lover, moving forward to kiss her.

Minerva returned the kiss with a smile, and then explained her presence. "Emergency staff meeting. Albus sent me to meet you here and bring you along at once."

"Is something wrong?" she asked with a frown.

"Not that I'm aware of," Minerva assured her. "Though something is obviously _up_ , as he's not canceled the one for tomorrow afternoon."

The two made their way quickly toward the staff room. Minerva cast a Patronus to alert the rest of the faculty that she and _Amelia_ would be along shortly, so by the time they arrived most of the group was already there, with the lone exception of Severus, which concerned Hermione right away. He was not the sort to be late. In fact, he was the kind of man who would have probably been the first here, tapping his foot and glaring at the door while feeling disdain for having to wait at all.

"Welcome," Albus greeted, stepping to the center of the room. "Thank you all for coming on short notice. We have an issue to discuss prior to the arrival of a new resident arriving later this evening."

Hermione looked around the room, and identified each staff member by Mastery, wondering if one of them was going to have to leave. She uttered a silent prayer that Severus had not come to some harm, and the _new resident_ was not to be his replacement. Cuthbert floated behind Charity Burbage's seat; History of Magic and Muggle Studies respectively. To Charity's right sat Filius for Charms, Pomona for Herbology, Hagrid for Care of Magical creatures, and then Argus and Mrs. Norris were on the other side of Hagrid. Minerva, Transfiguration obviously, had seated to Charity's left, Hermione of course had Defense, and to Hermione's left was Remus to co-teach Defense, then Rolanda, Irma, and Poppy. In a cluster of armchairs on the other side of the room sat Aurora Sinistra for Astronomy, and Septima Vector for Runes, with Sybil Trelawney, long time keeper of the Divination post, looking airily about the room, seemingly anywhere that didn't involve eye contact. The only post unaccounted for was Potions, which had been Severus' since right before the deaths of James and Lily Potter.

"First, to ease your minds," Albus said, "Severus is perfectly fine. He's been excused from this meeting to attend his grandfather's funeral. He asked me to relay that any condolences you might wish to send shall be looked on as hostile acts, for which he'd likely retaliate. Of course, this means that any cards you wish to send him would be best left unsigned."

Hermione was one of the few who didn't chuckle at the anecdote, probably because she was among the minority here who had known Cyrus Prince. She had known he was ill, having the Dragon Pox, which in his last letter to her he had jokingly expressed an appreciation for the irony, should the illness take his life. Dragon Pox were not in any way contracted by contact with actual Dragons, the name coming instead by the scale like rash that presented alongside the fever and eventual organ failure. There was, of course, treatment, but at Cyrus' age the chances of recovery were only fifty percent.

"Now to the reason I called this meeting," Albus continued. "The Ministry, it appears, is making an attempt to interfere at Hogwarts. Their intention was to have a Professor dismissed - they were actually rather keen on having you sacked, Amelia…"

Hermione let out a bark of laughter at _that_ , the irony of trying to _sack_ someone who could technically be considered a Founder of this school not escaping her.

"... - and replacing said Professor with Ministry representative," the Headmaster went on. "While I was able to prevent the loss of any of your jobs, I'm afraid I was unable to stop them from placing an agent here anyway. Dolores Umbridge, Undersecretary of the Minister, will be here in a few hours. On paper, she will be taking over as my Deputy - don't look so ruffled, Minerva, it's not becoming and it's just on paper anyway - but we will all need to be wary of what we say and where we say it. I trust each and every one of you, and hope you trust me in return. I am warning you all, Madam Umbridge is here looking for a reason to get rid of staff members and replace them with people who would not hold it in such high priority to protect the students should it come to war again. We cannot allow this to happen."

A wave of nods went around the room, every one of them having total faith in the Headmaster and his ability to protect them. A few more details about safe places to meet, and a schedule of staff meetings that would be _unofficial_ and thus not include Umbridge, were worked out and then the meeting closed, people filing out quickly, anxious to get back to the last minute preparations before term started tomorrow. Hermione, knowing that with Umbridge in the castle it would be harder to sneak away, grabbed Minerva's arm and led her toward the old Staff Room, and to the entry of the Caverns beneath the school. She needed to find that Potion for Dudley tonight.

"Is there a reason we're going down here?" Minerva finally asked as they neared the entry to the mouth of the cavern.

"Rowena was developing a Potion, just prior to my return here, which would activate the magical gene laying dormant in Squibs. I fear with Umbridge at Hogwarts I'll have few chances to get down here to look for it after she arrives," Hermione explained.

"I'll just assume you don't have aspirations to turn Argus into a wizard so late in his life, so what's your aim here?"

Hermione pulled a bit of parchment out of her pocket, the one citing Dudley's genealogical history, and handed it to her lover without a word, uttering the Parselmouth password to the doorway in front of them instead.

"Dudley?" Minerva exclaimed, obviously surprised. "You mean to turn him into a wizard?"

"I mean to give him the option. I have not talked to him about it yet, and I certainly don't wish to force him, but I want to have the Potion available should he be so inclined. If he does not want to become a wizard, I'll respect that and care for him all the same," Hermione admitted. "Though it will be a good deal easier to handle him if he will be able to defend himself in the war to come. If he lives as a muggle, protecting him would be a good deal more difficult."

"I agree," the elder woman said. "But you said Rowena was working on it. How do you know if she ever finished it?"

"I know she was close when I left," Hermione replied. "So even if she stopped outright directly after I returned here, I'm confident that I could finish her work, though I may need to draft Severus into the project. Hopefully, she simply finished it and it was stored away."

"Why wouldn't it have been made available to the public?" Minerva wanted to know. "Merlin knows plenty of Pureblood lines have died out because of too much intermarrying resulting in Squib births. It could have helped keep some of those lines alive."

"The nature of Squibs in that circumstance was, for all intents and purposes, a birth defect. Nothing could have mended it. The idea behind what Rowena was creating was for the offspring of two Squibs who were not related. Like if you'd been a Squib, and you married some other Squib you were not related to, your children would have also carried the Squib gene, though their gene's would not be polluted by the inbreeding. They could have taken advantage of this Potion. Of course, Purebloods, at least then, were totally against the idea of accepting that the growing Squib rates had anything to with their efforts to keep their lines pure, and so marrying their Squib children to another Squib would have seemed… well, let's just say that they were not inclined to consider any magical offspring of a Squib to be worthy of a Pureblood name."

"Ahhh," Minerva replied. "That does make sense."

"Accio Excitafamilia Potion!" Hermione called, as soon as they'd stepped into the cavern.

Moments later, a box came floating toward her, which Hermione grabbed out of the air and opened at once. She pulled out a bit of parchment, under which was a series of seven vials, and began to read. It was a short note from Rowena, which caused her to laugh loudly.

"What is it?" Minerva asked.

"The world according to Rowena," Hermione replied with a wry grin, handing over the parchment.

" _Yes, I finished it, you nosey bint. Sal wanted me to quit because no one was interested in a potion such as this, but you'd been so keen on the project and I could not find it in my heart to just let it sit there unfinished. It only been tested once, on a boy twice removed from the Pureblood Prince line, though he still carries the name, so there's a good chance that the Prince's will be able to carry on for years to come, should they mind who they marry from here on out. Bad luck you're not here to rub in the 'told you so's'."_

Minerva chuckled, and handed it back, noticing the actual directions for the brew on the back of Rowena's note, along with a notation that the vials in the box were one full dosage to activate the gene, one vial per day for a week, prepared in case Hermione sought this Potion out in dire need, given how complicated a brew it was and the month long preparation time. "If Dudley wants this, he'll need to have a tutor to catch up up before he can attend Hogwarts, presumably jumping into Harry's year," she mused.

Hermione nodded, and braced herself for the answer to give and the ire that would follow. "I've already spoken to Leland," she stated. "Part of why I had Remus return this term instead of Leland was because I knew Leland would remain at my service in any case. He'll tutor Dudley."

"You've got to be joking!" Minerva seethed.

"I know you do not trust Leland, but as I've stated numerous times, I _do_ , and I believe he's the best person for this task. He's under the radar enough that no one will try to interfere, and if they thought to attack, he'd be able to protect Dudley."

"Why not have Remus tutor Dudley, and keep Leland as your second here?"

"Because a late admit to Hogwarts must be approved through the Ministry, which means Dudley has to be taught by someone who holds legal Mastery - which Remus does not have because of his lycanthropy. He can only teach here because hiring of staff is at the Headmaster's disgression, not the Ministry's. A lack of legal Mastery also rules out Sirius, as his Defense Mastery through the Auror Program was revoked when he was sent to Azkaban. You and I both have full schedules and lack the time to devote to catching Dudley up, so please, Minerva, who _else_ would you suggest?" Hermione spat out, beyond frustrated.

Minerva's temper wasn't faring much better. "There are several Order members I can think of - Annabeth comes to mind first - who hold Masteries and would have the time to tutor him."

"Annabeth is too high profile a person to go unnoticed while tutoring a supposed muggle. I need to keep Dudley invisible to the public eye until he's ready to start Hogwarts," Hermione countered.

"What about Robert Giles?" Minerva suggested.

"Works full time as an Unspeakable, and before you ask about Samantha, she may only work part time, but she's very visible in the Auror office. It's too risky. Don't you think I haven't already considered the options, Min?" Hermione hissed as they moved along the passage back into the school. "I know how you feel about Leland and if I could pick someone else that was qualified, available, and not on Ministry radar, I'd consider them, but there's only a small pool of people I'd trust and of them, Leland is _it_ so far as who fits the bill."

"He's your ward, Hermione," the elder woman bit. "Far be it from me to nose in. It's none of my concern."

"Oh come on!" the younger Professor sighed. "Don't be like that. You know I value your opinion. In this case I just don't have other options!"

By now they had reached the old staff room, and Minerva did not pause to kiss her before they were stepped out of the passage. "Good night, Professor Slytherin."

Hermione stood there alone as Minerva walked away, feeling hurt, but knowing where Minerva was coming from. She wished the Scottish woman would just duke it out with Leland already. She wished Minerva could understand that what Leland had done to her uncle was not without reason. Perhaps Hermione could reach out to Malcolm. He may be able to talk some sense into his sister, even if the pair hadn't talked in two decades.

For the moment, Hermione pushed the thoughts and feelings regarding Minerva aside, and sent a patronus to Leland, asking him to meet her in her chambers so they could talk to Dudley together. Fifteen minutes later she was at the door to her quarters and Leland was already waiting. "You found the potion?" he asked gruffly.

"I did. It's complete, and Rowena left a note to indicate it was tested, and successfully so. All we need to do is offer the option to Dudley," she replied.

"Oh, before we go in there - I assume you've heard Cyrus kicked?" he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I did, and yes, I agree that means that I'll have to tell Severus soon. With Cyrus gone that means he's heir apparent behind Annabeth, and given she's not likely to have children this late in life, she'll be required to induct him into the Serpent Accord. Granted, that won't tell him much more than he already knows, only offering him a plausible theory as to how I've stayed alive through the centuries."

"Even if Cyrus was still alive, we both know it's only a matter of time before Severus figures it out on his own. Much like Lupin, Severus is smart enough to put together the pieces," Leland concurred. "While he won't be able to smell it, he's got an eye for patterns, and as soon as he considers time travel as a possibility he'll be able to put things together pretty quickly."

"Agreed. I was thinking about Christmas break," Hermione stated. "Now, shall we go talk to Dudley?"

Leland nodded, and they went inside to find both Dudley and Harry sitting on the couch reading.

"Harry, would you please take your book to your room. I need to talk to your cousin privately." Hermione requested.

Harry frowned, but got up and did as he was told, offering a backward glance to Dudley with a smile of encouragement. "She won't bite, Dud," Harry called.

As soon as Harry was clear, Hermione took a seat next to her new ward. "You're not in trouble, dear boy. Do you know what a Squib is?"

Dudley shook his head "no".

"A squib is a person who was born of a magical bloodline, but does not have magic himself. Like Mister Filch, for example. A Squib can also, in very rare cases, exist when both his own non-magical parents came from Wizarding lines. You know that your Aunt Lily was a witch, yes?"

Dudley nodded "yes."

"What most Wizards call _muggleborns_ are actually the result of a Squib line, long forgotten, producing a magical child by random chance. Your mother had a fifty-fifty chance of being born magical, because her parents were both Squibs, though I doubt they were even aware of it. Likewise, your father was born of two Squibs. As such, Dudley, both your parents were Squibs, which means you are as well. Muggles cannot see Magical places, and obviously you can."

Dudley blinked at her and cocked his head to the side, which she was learning meant he was waiting for her to make her point.

"I have access to a Potion which can activate the magical gene that all Squibs have," she explained. "Which means that if you want to, I can give it to you and you can become a Wizard."

Dudley's eyes widened, and he pointed to himself as if to say, "Me?"

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, you. If that's a path you want to take, then Professor Dourif here has agreed to tutor you until you are caught up enough to sort into a Hogwarts House. If you worked very hard, we think you could be ready to do this after Christmas break. If not, the next best option would be next September. If you would prefer to continue on being a Squib, I certainly won't think less of you. I can have you re-enrolled into Smeltings effective tomorrow if need be."

Dudley gulped visibly.

"Do you need time to consider, lad?" Leland asked, making Hermione realize she had put Dudley on the spot without really meaning to.

The boy took a took a deep breath and shook his head "no".

"Would you prefer to remain a Squib?" Hermione asked, not wanting him to be forced to decline stepping into the Wizarding world fully if that was his intention.

To her relief, again, Dudley shook his head "no."

"Do you want to become a Wizard?"

One more deep breath, and Dudley Dursley made one of the most important decisions of his young life. He nodded "yes", and Hermione wrapped him into a tight hug, which for the first time since his arrival, he did not shy away from.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	32. Chapter 32

**I seem to be lacking in self control when it comes to keeping my chapters under the 4k mark I mentioned. Enjoy the chapter. Hope you like the new character. Check out more details about Evelyn Chancellor on the Telling Time FB Group!**

* * *

On Sunday afternoon, Hermione left the boys in the care of Minerva and Rolanda, who would be giving Dudley some flying lessons, and headed to Prince Manor to have a meeting with Annabeth Prince, newly instated Head of the ancient house after the death of her father, Cyrus. She thought that Annabeth had already been inducted into the Serpent Accord, but she and Annabeth had yet to speak of it, and Hermione needed to get some feel on what side of the fence the Lady Prince would sit on. Just because Cyrus was willing to keep her secret did not mean his daughter would be too.

"Well, well, what a surprise," Annabeth greeted. "Madam Slytherin."

"Annabeth," Hermione greeted in turn. "I was hoping you could spare a few minutes to speak to me regarding your recent advance to Head of the Prince family."

"You mean that you want to know what I know about you," the other woman smirked. "Do come in… Hermione."

The brunette followed the dark haired witch into the den of Prince Manor, and the pair took seats opposite each other in highback armchairs tilted toward a roaring fire. With a snap of Annabeth's fingers, a House Elf appeared, and his mistress kindly asked him to bring tea for her and her guest. Hermione was pleased to see that Annabeth was not like the Malfoys in how she treated her servants. A minute after that, a tray of tea and biscuits arrived by way of a different, female House Elf, who vanished with a nod to Annabeth, leaving the two alone to speak.

"Your father was aware, and I surmise you were told in accordance with the Lex Excetra, that I am the wife of Salazar Slytherin," Hermione prompted.

"Indeed. My father told me that the Serpent Accord suggested that you left Hogwarts, all those ages ago, in possession of a Sorcerer's Stone, which has allowed you to survive the ages," Annabeth countered, obviously digging for more information than she already had.

Before Hermione could form a reply, another woman entered the room. Average height, red hair up in a bun, about her own age. She locked eyes with Hermione, seemingly intent on a polite greeting, when her eyes widened in surprise. She cleared her throat and turned to Annabeth. "Dearest, will you introduce me to your guest?"

"Oh!" Annabeth exclaimed, jumping out her seat. She'd been facing away from the entry to the den and had not seen this new woman enter. "You're home!"

To Hermione's surprise, Annabeth greeted this new woman with a searing kiss that would make most people blush to have witnessed. The other woman groaned into her companion's mouth, muttering assurances. "I came as soon as I heard. Why didn't you Owl me, you _stubborn_ witch?"

"You were visiting your parents. I didn't want to call you away. It's been ages since you last took the time to make the trek to America," Annabeth replied, looking guilty.

Hermione watched the exchange with interest, a bit astonished to watch the stern woman she'd just been speaking with melt into such a loving exchange. In fairness, she supposed she herself was much the same with Minerva, and wouldn't be surprised if Annabeth's lover was similar; having a stern professional demeanor and a more gentle one for those she cared for. "Eh-hem," she finally said, realizing that the other two women had more or less forgotten her presence.

"Oh, forgive me," Annabeth said, blushing. "I should not like to have made you… uncomfortable."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "Anything but. I myself have a female lover - you'll get no judgment from me."

Annabeth looked thoughtful for a moment, and then raised her eyebrows. "Minerva?"

Hermione nodded.

The other woman snorted. "Of bloody course," she muttered under her breath.

Lady Prince seemed not to have heard her lover's comment, and launched into overdue introductions. "Amelia Slytherin, this is my partner Evelyn Chancellor. She's Head of the Department of Mysteries," she added proudly.

Evelyn seemed to balk at the name given, but forced a smile and shook Hermione's hand. "Please to meet you."

"You as well," Hermione replied. "Now Annabeth, I'm sure you two would like to spend some time together, and I believe we've covered all that needed covered for the time being. I will see myself out, and I bid you both a good evening."

"I have a few more items to get in the taxi," Evelyn said. "Annabeth, would you be a dear and go run a bath? I'll see your guest out."

"Of course, love," the older witch agreed easily.

Hermione had to smile at how easily this Evelyn woman seemed able to get Annabeth to do her bidding. Love was a funny thing.

Annabeth parted ways at the stairs, and Hermione and Evelyn continued along the path to the front door. As soon as they'd stepped outside, Evelyn turned to her companion and took a deep breath. "If I were to say _Granger,_ how would you respond?"

Hermione had her wand out in an instant and pointed at Evelyn's throat. To the other woman's credit, she didn't even flinch, rather sighing. "What the _hell_ happened _Hermione_?"

"How do you know me?" the brunette demanded.

"I am Head of the Department of Mysteries," Evelyn explained calmly. "Every one issued a timeturner is carefully evaluated - not only regarding who they are, but who they could _become_ , probable future appearance included. Only the Head of the Department is given access to most of that information, so rest assured, I will be the only person able to identify you on sight. So I ask again, _what happened_?"

"The timeturner shattered when I tripped and fell. I was thrown back in time ten centuries, to just before ground broke in the construction of Hogwarts," Hermione whispered, lowering her wand. "With no corridor to arrive at, I landed on the grounds and right on top of the one and only Godric Gryffindor, who was surveying the property with his three companions, one of which was the man I'd eventually wed."

"Salazar Slytherin," Evelyn assumed correctly by the way Annabeth had introduced Hermione.

"It took me thirty years to find a way back to my own time. My husband and friends propagated a myth regarding my disappearance, called the _Lex Excetra_ , passed down pureblood lines, which suggested I had left with a Sorcerer's Stone, thus allowing me to explain my reappearance in the presence without getting in trouble with the Ministry via illegal use of a timeturner, and to help with fabricating an identity which would allow me to rebuild my life here. I faked the death of young Hermione Granger a few months after my arrival here, hoping that the difference in date of _her_ death and _my_ date of arrival would be great enough that no one would link the two."

"It was a well thought out plan," Evelyn commented.

"Not well enough. I did not account for the Department of Mysteries evaluating what a future Hermione Granger might look like," Hermione sighed. "Will you turn me over to the Aurors?"

"Can you give me a good reason not to?"

"Because you know damn well that they will question me with truth serum, which will get anyone who has helped me into serious trouble. You seem to be a smart woman, Evelyn, so I'm going to assume you know that Voldemort is on the rise again. Do you think that the wizarding world stands a chance against _him_ if Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, among others are rotting in Azkaban? And then there's Harry Potter - my ward. His aunt, whom he lived with for the sake of blood wards, is dead. I also have custody of Harry's cousin Dudley. Dudley may not matter to you, but Harry is important and must be protected. If I'm thrown into Azkaban, who will protect him?"

"Who else knows who you are?" Evelyn inquired. "If you want me to guard your secret, you will need to be completely honest with me."

"Most pureblood heads know that I am the wife of Salazar Slytherin, which is a tale that has also been shared with members of the Order of the Phoenix. I'm afraid you and Annabeth would need to join the Order before I can tell you who those people are. Member list is secret kept. I cannot tell you, willing or not, as I am not the keeper," Hermione replied. "I can tell you who I have shared the whole truth with, as it is not related to Order affiliation."

"Go on."

"Minerva and Albus, obviously. Sirius Black. Remus Lupin. Rosmerta Dobbs. Molly Weasley. Leland Dourif," Hermione listed. "Those, and yourself, are the only ones at present who know that I was born Hermione Granger."

"Well isn't that a motley crew," Evelyn chuckled. "Dourif… he's a... _special_ individual."

"And he is absolutely loyal to me. I know his secrets, he knows mine."

Evelyn looked thoughtful for a moment. "You present a solid argument. Even if the Dark Lord was not on the rise, most of those lives are not ones I'd want to ruin. While a risky move to tell so many people who you really are, it certainly is a measure of insurance to prevent someone from turning you in. I mean, even if Sirius Black hated you, he'd never turn you in because that would put Remus Lupin, his best friend, in peril. The same applies to many of the others in various pairs. Betrayal of you would mean betrayal of their dearest friends."

"So…"

"I will not turn you in. I will not even tell Annabeth. She knows there are things I cannot tell her per my job, so cold as it seems, keeping secrets from her is nothing new to me," Evelyn concluded. "I will speak to her about joining the Order, however. I'd been meaning to do so in any case. My coworker, Robert, has been dropping hints of late to that end. Poor man would have failed dismally at being a Slytherin."

"What House were you?" Hermione asked. "If any. You don't have much of an English accent."

"I was raised and educated in America," Evelyn replied. "Attended Ilvermorny. According to Annabeth, I'd have been a Ravenclaw had I attended Hogwarts. Now, I have to know - how on earth has Minerva _bloody_ McGonagall managed to cope with being with someone who was, from her perspective, so recently her student?"

Hermione laughed, and the two women chatted amicably for another few minutes, before Evelyn concluded she'd kept Annabeth waiting long enough, and went inside, leaving Hermione to apparate to Hogsmeade. After standing in the cool weather for quite some time, she decided that she'd like something hot to drink, so headed to the Three Broomsticks. Besides, it had been too long since she'd taken time to visit Rosmerta.

She made for the fire as soon as she was in the door of the old inn, anxious to get warm. "Well hey there stranger!"

Hermione smiled at Rosmerta's voice, and turned to hug her friend. "Good to see you, Ros."

"It's been less than three days," the woman frowned. "Please don't tell me Emma's gotten into trouble already."

"Emma is fine, and in no trouble," Hermione laughed. "I'm just returning from an unexpected chat that happened outdoors, and thought to get something warm to drink before heading back up to the school."

"Well, in that case, pull up a chair and I'll get something for us both!"

The two women chatted while Hermione warmed up, mostly about the proprietess' daughter and how she was doing at Hogwarts. Rosmerta laughingly commented about how Emma and her two best friends, Ethan Giles and Dennis Creevey, seemed to be taking the place of what Harry, Ron, and Hermione had once been; a trio of friends who seemed to attract trouble like nobody's business. The Defense Professor promised to keep an eye on the group of second years, and Rosmerta professed she'd sleep better at night knowing that was the case.

After leaving _the Three Broomsticks,_ Hermione made her way back to her quarters to check up on Dudley and Leland's progress. First thing this morning, she, Leland, Dudley, and Harry had taken a trip to Diagon Alley to purchase Dudley a wand, and have him checked out by a specialist at St. Mungo's regarding his newly acquired magical ability. Having the magical gene activate past five years of age was unheard of, save for the record of Sevryn Prince, the boy Rowena had tested the Potion on. Magical levels could of course be measured, and Hermione and Leland had wanted to get an idea of where Dudley was before they set a scale of reasonable expectations for his tutelage. His magical levels had not been remarkably high, but he was certainly no squib anymore. They were average, and Hermione had been glad that the boy would not be any further set apart than he was because of an oddly high or oddly low magical level.

When she walked in the door, she was pleased to be greeted by the sight of Dudley grinning ear to ear as he managed a non-verbal _lumos_ spell. Hermione had spoken with the boy before she'd sent him, Harry, and Leland back to Hogwarts as she departed toward Prince Manor, about how in order to perform magic, he'd eventually need to start speaking again. Some of the minor spells could be done non-verbally with his magical levels, but he'd need to speak before he could catch up to Owl level classes. She really wanted him to get up to speed quickly enough to allow him to take his Owls through Hogwarts, rather than having to have them done privately at the Ministry. Dudley seemed to understand what she was saying, though still, he hadn't uttered a word. Hermione hoped that the prospect of learning more magic would inspire him to find his tongue again.

"That's it, Dudley!" Harry exclaimed, grinning.

"Very well done, Dudley," echoed the voice of Albus Dumbledore, who Hermione just now noticed was also in the room. "You'll make a fine wizard, indeed. It is, in fact, those who face the most adversity in their young lives who achieve the greatest success as they grow into adults."

Hermione wasn't sure if Albus was talking about Dudley, Harry, or her. Probably all three of them. Hell, he may even be talking about himself, for that matter. Minerva, as it happened, was a fountain of information on the early years of one Albus Dumbledore.

"I say, would any of you care for a Lemon Drop?" she heard Albus inquire a moment later.

To her surprise, Dudley was the first to hustle over to the Headmaster, nodding eagerly. Harry followed his cousin, looking amused, and Leland moved over to where Hermione was still standing by the door, grumbling about _Albus' damn sweet tooth_. "Mister Potter has informed me that he's caught the Headmaster talking to Mister Dursley several times now. Just sitting with the boy, talking about anything and everything, completely unphased by the fact that his companion isn't talking."

Hermione looked surprised. "I had no idea, but that does explain how Dudley seems so at ease with Albus. They've apparently met several times without my knowing."

"Not that I'm ever inclined to speak well of _that man_ \- his ego needs no help - but it's a damn fine thing he's doing with Mister Dursley," Leland commented. "Not treating him different for being different. That may be what breaks the boy out of his shell, ultimately."

"We can certainly hope," she muttered absently, watching Albus interacting with the boys with interest as she grabbed a few items, intent on taking them down to her classroom so they were ready for classes in the morning. "I need to go get some things in order for my classroom. Can you mind the boys for another hour?"

"Of course," Leland said, dipping his head in agreement. "Take your time."

Hermione headed down to her classroom, and had only just begun to get things sorted when she heard footsteps. She looked up to see Dolores Umbridge, whom she'd seen at the staff meeting the other night, but had not actually conversed with. "Can I help you?" she inquired, not bothering to hold eye contact, rather returning her attention to her paperwork.

"Professor Slytherin," Dolores greeted with distaste in her tone. "We have not had the opportunity to be introduced formally. I am…"

"Dolores Umbridge," Hermione said sharply, finally looking up and giving the other woman her attention. The bitch who tried and _failed_ to get me fired."

The pink clad woman looked at her sourly. "I could certainly think of more suitable people to replace you and the half-breed. You certainly don't have tenure. In fact, the Minister himself has ordered that they come to Hogwarts and moderate your classes, in the event _something_ unfortunate were to happen to you and the werewolf, so they would be up to speed on everything."

Hermione wanted to laugh in the woman's face for her comment about not having tenure. She'd lived and taught at Hogwarts for more than two decades before arriving in the here and now to resume teaching - albeit a different subject. She had more tenure than half the Professors course, if Dolores did not already know who she really was, Hermione was not about to give her a reason to dig, so she kept her tone even when she replied. "Oh, who did you have in mind?"

"A brother and sister, the Carrow twins," Dolores answered. "Suitably pureblood, and with strong backgrounds working around the Dark Arts."

Hermione knew who the Carrows were. "You want two Death Eaters to teach at Hogwarts?" she asked, incredulous. She had known that this woman was going to be a pain in her arse, but now she was beginning to suspect the Under Secretary for the Minister had more sinister reasons for wanting to be at Hogwarts.

"Reformed Death Eaters," the other woman smirked. "It's not as though they'd be the first former agents of the Dark Lord to teach at Hogwarts."

"Forgive me if I remain skeptical about the notion of their reformation," Hermione replied curtly. "As while Severus Snape has not been accused of anything related to the Dark Arts in the last sixteen years, the Carrows were residing in Azkaban until only a few months ago per their convictions for war crimes. Crimes, I might add, they showed no remorse for committing."

"Fifteen years in Azkaban changes a person," Dolores countered.

"It can," Hermione conceded. "However it can also allow anger to boil until nothing is left but madness, making them even more dangerous than they were when they were placed in prison. I doubt you could offer me any proof of their remorse outside of a plea to be released that I suspect you were the judge of."

"I was convinced of their remorse, and the Minister defers to _my_ judgement," the other woman snapped. "You are out of line in questioning me, and by extension, the Minister himself!"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Well, at present I'm unsure if you're actually convinced of their reformation, making you a fool, or if you are in league with Voldemort and his followers. In any case, I will not allow the Carrows in my classroom whilst children are present. If your argument is to have them see the classes to be prepared to take over should something happen to both myself and Remus, then I'll provide you my memory of each class, which your _friends_ may view in a Pensive. I highly doubt you'll be able to get Albus to counter my wishes on the matter, and while you may have the Minister's trust, I have Albus', and your Minister is _not_ the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

Dolores glared. "Watch your back, Slytherin," she spat, turning to leave. "Accidents happen all the time."

Some hours later, after Hermione finished her paperwork, and then gotten the boys dinner and then settled into bed, she warded their bedrooms so they could hear nothing, and the Ghost of Helena Ravenclaw entered her mother's quarters for their pre-planned get together this evening.

"How are you this fine night?" Helena inquired.

Hermione sighed. "Well, Minerva is still rather mad at me for allowing Leland to teach Dudley. Dolores Umbridge has threatened to arrange a fatal accident for me in order to replace Remus and me with the Carrow twins - Death Eaters, mind you. My new ward is now magical but still not speaking, and… I miss your mum. I miss her so much on days like this."

Helena nodded. "Mum had her faults, certainly, but she was never as quick to temper as Minerva is. Mind you, Mother, I do like Minerva and I think she's worthy of being your partner, but if I had physical form, I'd go and hit her over the head with a skillet. Does she not realize she's pushing you away with her behavior?"

"I went from a relationship with your mum and Salazar, to a relationship with Minerva in short order," Hermione tried to reason. "Whereas Minerva is with me, and prior to that her last serious relationship was twenty odd years ago. I give her some grace because I know she's woefully out of practice in the art of compromise. One does not compromise with students, which has been the bulk of her human interaction for the last two decades."

"I shall endeavor to me more patient with her," Helena promised. "The odd thing about being a ghost, you know, is that while I can exist and learn in the present, my emotional responses are limited to what they were when I died. I was only twenty-two at the time. I had not yet mastered patience, which drove Mum quite mad. She said that I got my rashness from you."

"She was right," Hermione replied with a smile. "I was in my late twenties before I started to get a handle on it. I still struggle with it sometimes. I want what I want and when I want it, and when people fall short of my expectations, it frustrates me."

"Tell me about you and Mum," Helena requested. "She never told me much. Just who you were, and that you'd been married to Salazar. He wasn't around much after I was born. I believe he left Hogwarts when I was only three years old, so I could not ask him, either."

Hermione sighed. "My marriage to Salazar was a good one, as practically as it had come to be. We loved one another as two dear friends would, though we shared a bed. Prior to my arrival, your mum and Salazar had much the same arrangement. Friends with sexual benefits. When Salazar and I wed, Rowena sort of came with the package, which I didn't mind. I'd already been with her once, and there were times when all three of us would go to bed together. I wish I knew what happened between your mum and Salazar after I left."

"I was born," Helena replied. "And it was a difficult birth which resulted in Mum never being able to have other children. You and Salazar had a daughter, Lucy of course, and Salazar felt he needed an heir. A male heir. Since Mum could not provide him with one, he broke things off between them, and began courting other women. Mum never said, but I think she'd been in love with him, and was heartbroken by his dismissal. The more women he brought to Hogwarts, the more the two of them argued. When he brought home a witch from a notoriously dark family and announced his intention to wed her, both Aunt Helga and Uncle Godric sided with Mum in the thought that they'd not have a dark witch at Hogwarts around all the children. So Salazar left."

Hermione's heart broke for her two closest friends. Her man and woman with whom she'd had a child each. "Did Lucy leave with her father?"

"No, she and her husband remained at Hogwarts until I was eleven," Helena replied. "In fact, her parting gift to me was the wand you gave her when she turned eleven. She thought I'd like a piece of you to hold on to."

This thought warmed Hermione's heart. "Did Lucy have children?"

She hesitated to ask, because she'd told herself time and time again how she did not want to know where her however many great-grandchildren might reside, if there were any left at all.

"Two sons," Helena replied. "Though the younger boy died when he was eight. The older boy, August, was sorted to Slytherin, and grew up to be a good lad, with great political ambition. I'm not honestly sure what became of him after he left Hogwarts. I did hear that Lucy's husband had died, oh, ages later. Uncle Godric told me she'd remarried a few years after, though she would have been at least sixty by then, so I doubt she had any children with her second husband."

The two women chatted well into the night, Helena finally bidding her mother goodnight when she caught Hermione yawning. The Defense Professor crawled into bed as soon as her daughter had left, and was asleep and dreaming of the far past minutes after that.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews really do make me type faster!**


	33. Chapter 33

**Special thanks to CherriiMarina, my WONDERFUL Beta, and to the rest of the Slytherin Marauders, without whom I would not be half the writer I am today! Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Minerva looked up in surprise as Harry walked through her office door, looking miserable. "I'm here for detention," he muttered, dropping his bag on the floor as he sat down in the chair opposite herself at the desk.

"Set by who?" she asked, perplexed.

"Professor _Slytherin_ ," he grumbled.

"For _what_?" Minerva inquired, even more confused. While Hermione was certainly not a teacher to cross, she didn't give out detentions often. In fact, Minerva was fairly certain this was the first time she'd ever given Harry one.

"Apparently being late to her class this morning per being up late last night to finish my Potions homework is an unacceptable excuse when the reason you were up late doing Potions homework is because you spent the evening in detention with Professor Umbridge," Harry spat. "It doesn't seem to matter to anyone that Umbridge isn't even a bloody Professor..."

"Language, Harry," Minerva chastised.

"...and it doesn't matter if her detentions are worse than Snape's," he continued to ramble. "And the worst part is that _she's_ so busy dealing with the Carrows trying to sneak into her classes that she doesn't even have time to ask me how my first week has gone, and I tell you Minerva, it's been bloody awful!"

Minerva didn't chastise him again for his language, as it was obvious that the last thing he needed was another person being critical. She hadn't seen Harry looking this frustrated since he'd come to live with Hermione. Something was obviously up. "By _she_ , I presume you mean Amelia."

Harry just nodded. "She's busy, and I get that, but she's the one who took me in. She's the one who said she wanted me around. Is it really that hard to spare five minutes to hear my side of the story? She didn't even _ask_ why I had detention with Umbridge in the first place. She just gave me another stupid detention and said it was a conflict of interest for her to supervise it, and that I should go find you or Professor Snape."

"Well, since we're talking about it," Minerva mused. "What did Professor Umbridge give you detention for. Can't have been something in class, as she doesn't teach."

"I heard her talking with that Carrow man about how they were going to arrange an _accident_ for the current Defense Professors so that he and his sister could take Remus and… _Amelia's_ place," Harry explained. "I _may have_ called Umbridge a miserable pink toad and told her that if she tried to hurt... _Amelia_ , that I'd hunt her down and kill her."

For the second time in a single sentence, Harry had hesitated to call Hermione by the name he knew her as. In fact, it had been months since Minerva had last heard Harry address Hermione directly at all, save for the _mossser_ hissing sound she'd come to identify as Parseltongue equivalent to _godmother_. At least she thought so. Making a mental note to make sure Hermione was aware that Dolores was plotting to kill her, and completely disregarding the notion that she was supposed to be giving Harry a detention, Minerva took a breath and pressed forward in addressing the issue at hand. If Harry was refusing to call Hermione _Amelia_ , or at least felt uncomfortable doing so, she worried that the boy may have worked out that his godmother was actually his friend, Hermione Granger.

"Harry, I've noticed of late that you seldom address Amelia by name," she commented casually. "Is there a reason her name makes you uncomfortable?"

The boy blushed, looking more embarrassed than worried he'd been caught at something. "There's nothing wrong with her name. It just feels weird to call her by name when I feel like I should be calling her by title."

"Title? You mean Professor? Or Godmother?" Minerva asked, confused by the formality Harry seemed to be preferring.

Harry didn't answer for a few seconds, and when he did reply it was so low a whisper that without her Animagus hearing, she might not have heard it at all. A single syllable escaped his lips, and Minerva's heart broke at the sound of the word, knowing how much it meant.

 _Mum._

"Harry," she said tenderly. "Why don't you just talk to her about that? Ask her if she minds you calling her _mum_."

The boy sighed. "If she can't spare five minutes to ask me how my week is going, do you really think she can spare any time for me to talk to her about _that_? I mean, it's a big deal, for me anyway. I know that James and Lily loved me, and I know they were my parents, but they're not here, are they? And then I hear all my friends talking about their mums and their dads, about the great parts about having parents, and the frustrating parts, and I realized that while she didn't give birth to me, 'Melia has been a mum to me since the day she showed up in my life. She's not perfect, and I get mad at her sometimes, but for better or worse, she's _mine_. She's _my_ mum. I'm not even sure how it happened, but I love her."

Minerva smiled. "Love, of any type, does not appear with any warning signs. You fall into it as if pushed from a high diving board. No time to think about what's happening. It's inevitable. An event you can't control. A crazy, heart-stopping, roller-coaster ride that just has to take its course."

She wasn't sure if she was talking about Harry's love for his Godmother, or her own love for Hermione. As mad as she was at Hermione at the moment regarding Leland tutoring Dudley, it didn't change where her heart was. Relationships took work, she knew that. And Merlin knew she was out of practice when it came to compromising. She did know one thing - she needed to relearn that particular skill, and quickly, if she didn't want to lose the woman she'd come to love so deeply.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "That's about how it felt when I worked out what I was feeling for Ron."

"How is that going, by the way?" Minerva inquired. "I trust that you've spoken to Miss Chang."

"Yeah, the day we got back. Needed some advice about how to go about it though, from a man's point of view, so I talked to Leland," Harry commented. "I know you don't like him, but he's a good guy. Uncle sort, though. I'd never look at him like a dad. And as much as I love Sirius, he's like a big brother more than a father-figure. And not the sort of big brother you'd trust to ask relationship advice from."

Minerva resisted the urge to grind her teeth and Harry's favoring of Leland. "And what did Professor Dourif have to say?"

"He told me to tell Cho that I wanted to break up so I could focus on figuring out some things about myself, and that I didn't think it was fair to her to lead her on while I was still unsure about what sort of future I wanted and how my choices might impact her," Harry reported.

Grudgingly, the Scottish woman had to admit that was sound advice. At this age, children could be cruel, and if her peers knew that she'd been dumped because her boyfriend decided to _bat for the home team_ , it would give them cause to tease her. By saying as Dourif had suggested, it was a literal 'what she doesn't know can't hurt her' sort of explanation which if she was a reasonable girl, she'd respect, understand, and be grateful that Harry was thinking about her future as well as her own. "And that was what you told her?"

"Word for word," Harry grinned. "I asked Leland to write it down for me so I could memorize it before I went to talk to Cho."

Minerva had to laugh at that. "So, that aside, how are things going with Ron?"

"Well, neither of us want to make the other guys in the dorm uncomfortable, you know how guys can be, so we're keeping what's going on between us a secret for the time being," he replied. "If they guess, we agreed not to lie to them, but we don't want to rub it in their faces."

"That is a mature mindset Harry," Minerva praised.

"Uh, Minerva?"

"Yes?"

"Aren't I supposed to be serving detention right now? Not that I mind talking to you and stuff…" he added with a blush.

She smirked. "Well given that most boys your age would consider it punishment to talk about their feelings with their Head of House, we'll call this little discussion _detention_ and leave it at that. If you don't tell your godmother, I won't. How about you spend the next thirty minutes working on your homework, and we'll call it a productive evening?"

They shared a knowing grin, and the boy reached toward the floor where is bag was lying, and pulled out his Transfiguration assignment. Minerva gave him a glance that she knew conveyed her disapproval for attempts to curry favor. "I'm not sucking up!" he said defensively. "I just figured if I had any questions, you would be right here. I'm being practical!"

"Well, if that's the case, do carry on."

Harry remained in her office longer than she'd asked him to - nearly a full hour till his Transfiguration essay was mostly finished. After seeing him to the door and offering him a warm hug, the boy was on his way and Minerva decided that she really did need to talk with Hermione. Threat from Dolores aside, they had an argument to come to some resolution over.

It could wait five more minutes, though, and Minerva was nearly done with the paperwork she'd been doing while Harry did his homework. No sooner had she sat back at her desk, and refocused on the task at hand, when a knock sounded at her door. "Enter!" she called, hoping whoever this was would not be needing an hour of her time as Harry had. She was certainly glad of the time she'd been able to spend with her surrogate son, but she _did_ need to talk to Hermione and she _did_ need to finish this paperwork.

She glanced up as the door opened, and upon seeing a tall, dark haired man walking into her office, she returned her attention to her paperwork. If it wasn't a student, she need not give her full attention. "Can I help you?" she asked, eyes on the parchment.

"Oh come now, Aunt Minerva. I know it's been a few years, but surely you recognize your only nephew!" came a familiar voice.

The use of the honorific she'd not heard in ten years got her attention. Her eyes snapped up, quill dropped to the table, and her jaw fell. "Patrick!" she exclaimed.

Patrick was her brother Malcolm's son. She'd been able to spend a good amount of time with her nephew while he was a student here at Hogwarts, though after he'd graduated, he'd gone his way, which seemed to mean submitting to his father's wishes that he have nothing to do with his Aunt. When Voldemort had first risen, Minerva's parents had joined the Order, as well as herself and her brother Robert, but Malcolm and his wife Jacqueline had opted to stay out of the fighting, focusing their efforts on protecting their only child, which meant living in Hogsmeade while Patrick attended Hogwarts. They'd moved as soon as their son had graduated, and Minerva had not heard from any of them since.

"Now I know I have not been in touch since I graduated," the young man started, moving slowly toward her. "For which I am sorry…"

"You better damn well be," Minerva chastised.

"But you know what Da's like," Patrick argued. "And Mum's worse!"

"And you were a grown man."

"Who could not afford to get into a Mastery program and still afford my own flat," the young man countered. "And Da said I could either keep talking to you, or get out of his house."

Minerva sighed. "I'm sorry Patrick. Even if I had known, I would never have asked you to choose me."

"No, you wouldn't have, but if I was really that hard up for money, you'd have been willing to help me out," her nephew muttered. "If I'd have gone against my parents… you'd have been there for me."

"True," Minerva agreed. "But if you'd asked me before starting an argument with your them, I'd have told you not to put yourself in that position. Whatever conflict is between your parents and myself, I would never want you estranged from them. Parents are not replaceable."

That was something Minerva was acutely aware of. The conflict between she and her brother's stemmed from the death of their parents in the course of their Order duties. Malcolm blamed the Order, and by extension herself and Robert, and Robert blamed Malcolm and Jacqueline, believing if they'd been there, then the McGonagalls might have lived. Minerva was the most neutral when it came to casting blame - favoring the blame be cast on the Death Eater who'd actually killed them - but she was cast in Robert's lot by her lack of patience with Malcolm's inaction in the war.

"In any case," Minerva continued. "I doubt you came to talk about the broomstick up your father's arse. What can I do for you, Patrick?"

The young man took a seat. "I work in the department at the Ministry that monitors missing persons. I know I was really young, then… but I remember you and Uncle Rob talking about people disappearing, right before things got really bad. Well… in the last month sixteen people have gone missing. In the twelve months before, combined, only fourteen people, and twelve of them were found within twenty-four hours. None of the ones this month have been found."

Minerva hissed in a sharp breath, knowing damn well that people missing was, as Patrick was correctly surmising, was a sign of a dark lord rising. "You don't need me to tell you what that means, so what's the question?"

"Has the Order of the Phoenix been reactivated?" he asked frankly.

"It has," she replied quietly. "Only just recently."

"The Headmaster still in charge?"

"As all members, the leader included, are Secret Kept, I cannot answer that," she replied.

"I want to join," Patrick admitted. "Just… tell whoever needs to be told to make that happen. I'm done letting my parents dictate what I do. In any case, with as over-protective as they are, they'd likely join as well, once I have. Think the Order could handle four McGonagalls?"

"Five. I seriously doubt Robert will sit the war out," Minerva mused with a chuckle. "Voldemort won't know what hit him, I'd wager. Can't bring down the Scots!"

"Quite," Patrick agreed. "Now, I'm sure I'm keeping you from something - I'll let you get back to it."

Minerva glanced at her paperwork and nodded in agreement. "Can I look forward to seeing you again soon, outside of the Order?"

"Yeah, Aunt Minerva," he replied, looking sheepish. "I should not have stayed away, all these years. I feel like a complete tosser about it, to be honest. I _am_ sorry."

"Forgiven, dear boy," Minerva said, standing up and pulling her nephew into a hug. "You stay safe."

She saw him to the door, and returned to her desk to, once again, try to finish her paperwork. This time she managed to do so, and then made her way out her door toward Hermione's office. On route, she noticed three students, her Gryffindors, and detoured to remind them it was nearing curfew. "Miss Dobbs. Mister Giles. Mister Creevey," she greeted. "You should have been back in the Tower by now."

"We just got out of detention with Professor Umbridge," young Dennis Creevey said sharply. "We're going to the Common Room now."

Minerva was surprised by the level of anger in Mister Creevey's tone. His brother Colin was perpetually the cheerful sort, and he'd seemed much the same last year. Harry's comment regarding Dolores' detentions being harsh sprung to mind, and she began to seriously question what exactly the Ministry stooge was doing with the children for punishment, and why so many of them seemed to be earning such treatment. She would absolutely look into it.

"I was not being critical, Mister Creevey," she tried to calm him. "Just making sure you were aware of the time. You would not be the first to lose track while having fun with friends."

"Yeah, loads of fun," she heard Emma mutter under his breath.

"Let's go guys," the other boy, Ethan said, grabbing each of them by an arm. "See you in class, Professor McGonagall."

Ethan's friends sighed and followed him back toward Gryffindor Tower, and Minerva didn't feel a need to escort them. The trio was obviously tired, and would probably make their way to their respective four posters before most of their peers. She made a mental note to stalk Dolores in her animagus form. As far as she knew, the woman didn't even know what her form was, though given that she did teach Transfiguration, she'd be foolish not to assume Minerva had achieved one.

Finally, several interruptions later, the Scottish witch finally made her way to Hermione's office, and was unsurprised to find her lover still there, late hour that it may be. "Hello, love," she whispered.

"Minerva," Hermione said, looking up from the book she'd been flipping through. "Does the lack of anger in those beautiful green eyes mean you're finished being cross with me?"

"Mostly," she replied. "You know I don't like Dourif, but I promised to be civil, and to trust your judgment regarding him. I have not shown much trust of late, and for that I do apologize."

Hermione sighed. "I understand your position, I truly do. I wish I'd had a different option, but I didn't. Dudley needed a tutor, and he needed one I could trust."

Minerva nodded. "Let's consider the matter dropped. I defer to your judgement, dearest, as I should have already been doing. I did come down here with other things to discuss."

Book placed on the desk, Hermione motioned for Minerva to sit. "What's on your mind?"

"Firstly, are you aware that Dolores is intent on arranging an accident for you? Probably a deadly on? For Remus as well?" Minerva inquired.

Hermione frowned. "I knew she was gunning for me, but I didn't know she meant to go after Remus as well. How did you come by this information?"

"Harry overheard. He told me while he was serving detention this evening."

"I owe him an apology," the younger woman sighed. "He was only five minutes late to class, and I overreacted because I, too, was running short on sleep. I trust you didn't actually give him a detention?"

"We just talked, and I let him do some homework in my office," she admitted, glad that Hermione was seeing sense. "After he left, I had a surprise visit from my nephew."

"Patrick?" Hermione asked, surprised. "I thought you said you'd not spoken to him since he graduated. What was that, ten years ago now?"

"Indeed. He seems to be finally stepping out from his father's shadow," she relayed. "He was inquiring as to how one goes about joining the Order. I'll need to speak to Albus."

"That's great!"

Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"Great that you're reconnecting with him," Hermione hurriedly said. "I know his joining the Order would mean putting him in danger, which of course, is bad."

"Quite," the older woman smirked.

"I've missed you," Hermione whispered, getting up and walking around her desk, sliding her arms around Minerva's waist and tilting her face up.

Minerva's chin dipped, and she pressed her lips against her lover's. Hermione pulled her closer, and the kiss deepened, a reaffirming of the feeling between them. Tongues began to dance a moment later, and before the Scottish woman knew quite what was happening, Hermione was pressed against the edge of her desk. It seemed the natural thing to do, at that point, to hoist the brunette up on the edge.

In the process of that, Hermione's skirt rode upward, and her hands began to fumble at the buttons of Minerva's blouse. She'd discarded her outer robes before heading down here, so the white silk was all that stood between Hermione's fingers and Minerva's bare skin.

"Need you," Minerva whispered, nibbling at her lover's neck as her hands slid under Hermione's loose skirt. The younger witch's legs spread in invitation, and a gasp escaped her lips as Minerva's fingers found their mark, sinking into Hermione's flesh as her body lowered onto wooden surface, uncaring of the papers and books that fell to the floor.

"Yes!" Hermione hissed. "That's it, my love."

As Minerva tried to move to a better position, she found herself being pulled on top of the other woman, both of their shirts quite undone by now. Hermione's teeth pulled Minerva's bra to the side, allowing her to latch on and suck hard on the first available nipple. The older woman's own skirt rode up as Hermione raised one knee, allowing Minerva to find a desperately needed source of friction. "Gods…" she breathed, breathing heavily into Hermione's ear as she nibbled on the lobe. "You're perfect."

Each of them worked furiously to pleasure the other in tandem, and it wasn't very long before they'd both reached climax, collapsing together on the desk in a sweaty heap, breathing hard. They kissed languorously for a few more minutes before Hermione grudgingly admitted that her back had about had it with the hard surface she was laying on. Minerva, of course, removed herself from her lover's person, and each woman worked to right their own clothing.

"Well," Hermione said after a moment.

"Well, indeed," Minerva agreed.

"My quarters?"

"Yes!"

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	34. Chapter 34

**This chapter sort of ran away with me. Or from me. Or some sort of running that involved a nearly 5k word count. I love you all. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Hermione was furious. She'd just caught Harry, Ron, and about fifteen other students hiding in the Room of Requirement, nursing wounds on the back of their hands. The wounds were words, carved into their flesh, something she knew to be the result of using a Blood Quill. Harry's hand read _I must not tell lies_. Ron's was _I will respect my betters_. Three second year students - Emma Dobbs, Dennis Creevey, and Ethan Giles, all bore the same message; _Children are to be seen, not heard._ Other students had other messages, apparently all related to whatever infraction they'd been punished for. Punished, of course, was not an accurate description. This was flat out torture, and Ron had offered the name of the one responsible.

Dolores Umbridge.

While she usually asked for entry out of courtesy, today Hermione hissed the password and stormed into the Head's office, to the surprise of the seventh year Ravenclaw who Albus was apparently speaking with. "Miss Reuel," she addressed the girl. "Unless this is a matter of life or death, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I require the Headmaster's immediate attention."

"Of course, Professor Slytherin," the young woman replied, nodding to Albus before making her way to the exit.

"See me after dinner, Elizabeth," the Headmaster called. "We'll continue this conversation then."

Once the young Ravenclaw had left the office, Hermione launched her ire Professor Dumbledore's way. "Do you have _any_ idea what Dolores has been _doing_ to the students?" she exclaimed. "Blood Quills, Albus! On Harry, Ron, and at least a dozen other students that I know of! If that bitch has it out for me, she should come and get _me_ , not take it out on innocent children!"

"Well, as it happens," the elderly man began, "I do not in fact think that it is _you_ that she is after. She's merely stated that as a means to misdirect us, possibly leaving the true target vulnerable in the process. And no, Hermione, I did not know she was using Blood Quills."

For the moment, Hermione set aside the treatment of the students, trying to follow the Headmaster's reasoning. "Who do you believe is the true target?"

"Are you familiar with _Wardlings_?"

For once, Hermione had no idea what he was talking about. "No, but I'd be very excited to learn if you'd care to share," she replied calmly.

"A Wardling is a child who was born at Hogwarts. When a child is born here, the magic used to build the school mingles with their own the moment they take their first breath. For most, this is just something that makes their magical signature a bit different, and thus makes buying a Wand a more time consuming task than others might. However, if a Wardling becomes Head of Hogwarts, the magic that was already linking them to this school is amplified, both increasing their magical talents, and allowing them a unique ability to - for want of better term - bring Hogwarts to life should the need arise. In the case of an attack on this school, a Wardling Head would be able to animate and direct the stone knights, gargoyles, and so forth. The perfect army, ready to do battle at a moment's notice. Alas, a Wardling Head is a very rare thing indeed."

"Fascinating as this is, Albus, what's the point?" Hermione inquired, knowing that there surely was one.

"Voldemort would stand very little chance of taking Hogwarts should a Wardling become Head. As it happens, Minerva is a Wardling - something she is unaware of and I have only recently learned. Should the Order receive word of an impending attack on this school, I would need only tender my resignation, and Hogwarts would be under her control. It is Minerva whom I believe is the true target of Madam Umbridge," he explained.

Hermione just stared at him for a moment, silent. "Bloody hell," she whispered. "Even her treatment of the students aside, we need to get Dolores out of Hogwarts. By the pure strategic advantage alone, we cannot even consider another option."

"I agree," he replied. "I had been planning on speaking to you this weekend about perhaps using some of your contacts and influence through the Lex Excetra to accomplish this. I could not prevent her from coming, so I do not believe I would have much luck getting her removed. You, on the other hand, have resources beyond my own."

"I am not waiting till this weekend. If you will excuse me from lunch, I'll take care of it straight away," Hermione replied, running through her options in her mind. Loathe as she was to admit it, Lucius Malfoy was probably her best bet. He could not afford a sterile son, so he'd have no choice but to do as she asked, and of all her contacts, he was the most established with the most power.

"Of course," Albus replied with a nod. "Send word if you need more time, and I'll let Remus know you'll need him to cover your next class on his own."

"I doubt it will take that long to convince Lord Malfoy that his interests are also served by cooperating," Hermione commented with a sly grin. "However to be on the safe side, please do alert Remus I may be late to the after lunch class today."

Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in the parlor of Malfoy Manor, and a House Elf had informed her that the Master of the House was on his way. Sure enough, only a few minutes later, Lucius strode into the room with a grace that could only mean years of etiquette training that came standard with a Pureblood upbringing. "Madam Slytherin," he greeted. "What can I do for you today? I trust my son is well?"

"Draco, as far as I am aware, is in perfect health," she assured him. Given the Malfoys' reputation for being affiliated with Voldemort, Hermione very much doubted that the young man in question had been subject to Dolores' Blood Quill. She seemed to be targeting only those students who came from families who'd fought against Voldemort. "I am here to make a request of you regarding Dolores Umbridge."

"What of her?" he asked.

"I want her removed from Hogwarts," she replied frankly. "I want her gone, today. And I know you have the power to make that happen."

"And why would I do such a thing?" he asked. "As I was one of the Governors to advocate for her placement?"

Hermione's features remained schooled. "Because you cannot afford a sterile son, and I will invoke the Lex Excetra if I must. She has been using Blood Quills on the students, Lucius. That is absolutely unacceptable."

"Blood Quills!" Lucius exclaimed with a chuckle. "I'll have to ask her where she got her hands on some. They're rather hard to find, given the association that have with dark magic."

The arrogant smile on his face faded as she glared at him. "Will you have her removed, or will I be forcing the end of the Malfoy line?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, the use of Blood Quills is of course highly illegal, so I'm sure the Board would agree that she must be removed at once. I'll go to the Ministry and have it taken care of by supper time."

"I'll hold you to that," she said firmly. "And I won't keep you from going there straight away. Thank you for your assistance, Lord Malfoy."

"Anything for you, Madam Slytherin," he said curtly. "Do stop in on Narcissa before you head back to Hogwarts - she's in the Library - as I do believe she'd been meaning to Owl you about something. Your timely visit would save her the hassle."

Hermione nodded, and farewells were said. Her last visit here, to share a meal with the Malfoys, left her familiar with the layout of the main floor, including the location of the Library on the west side of the Manor. She made a brisk pace in that direction, slowing as she heard the sound of classical music coming from inside her favorite room in this House. No matter where, no matter when, Hermione Granger-Slytherin would always feel happiest surrounded by books.

"Lady Malfoy?" she called, carefully peeking her head in the door. "Narcissa?"

"Hermione?" Narcissa replied, smile on her face. "I'd been meaning to Owl you!"

"So your husband said," the brunette admitted. "I thought to save you the parchment. What did you need?"

The pureblood woman ushered her guest in the door. "Last we spoke, you had mentioned a curiosity regarding the fate of one Lucy Gaunt. I was able to trace some information."

Hermione took a deep breath. She had in fact, upon hearing the Narcissa had been a researcher at the Ministry prior to Draco's birth, requested that the Lady Malfoy try and discover her daughter's fate. She hadn't told Narcissa anything about Lucy aside from her married name, and absolutely had not spoken of their kinship. "And?" she pressed, stealing herself for whatever knowledge was to come. She knew, inevitably, she was about to learn of her daughter's death, and although she'd been aware of the fact since the moment she returned to her present, it still hurt deeply to face the details. Still, she'd needed to know.

"Well," Narcissa began. "For starters, she was the daughter of Salazar Slytherin, and an unknown mother. She was born and raised at Hogwarts, and married a man called Julius Gaunt in her late teens."

Hermione nodded, already aware of that much. She'd been there.

"Lucy and Julius had two sons, one of which died as a child, and another who grew up, eventually married a girl from the Selwyn family, and the Gaunt line continued through him until they finally died out upon the death of Morfin Gaunt, less than fifty years ago. As to Lucy's fate, my research indicates that her husband Julius was an alchemist, and creator of a Sorcerer's Stone. He died in his sixties, cause unknown, and Lucy later remarried. After she remarried, and just dropped off the grid. I could find no record of who her second husband might have been, though I couldn't find any _Lucy_ in the records after that point that could have been her. I suspect that she changed her name entirely, not just her surname, upon her second marriage."

Hermione took all this information in, some of which she'd had hints of via Helena, some of which was news. "That's everything?" she asked.

"There is some rumor that Morfin Gaunt had a Squib sister who produced a child with a muggle man, but I could not find any concrete evidence," Narcissa confided. "Even if it is true, it's likely that child was entirely non-magical, and thereby is not probable that they would have any information I've not already found. Of course, if you wish I can continue searching."

"No," the other witch said, shaking her head. "It was never Lucy's descendents that interested me, but rather her fate. If you could keep searching for the identity of her second husband, I'd much appreciate it. I'm certainly an able researcher myself, but I haven't your Ministry clearance, personal library, or free time to do so."

"I admit, getting into a research project again is rather refreshing," the blonde confided. "Of course, I will see what else I can unearth."

"Thank you, Narcissa," Hermione said. "Now, I'm afraid duty calls and I must return to Hogwarts."

"Of course."

Narcissa walked Hermione to the fireplace in the nearby study, and the two said their farewells. Hermione had nearly thrown the Floo powder into the flame when she noticed the other woman's face contorting in a way her own often did when she was deliberating on if or not to ask a question, or state an opinion. "Is there something else?" she queried.

"I don't mean to speak out of turn…" Narcissa muttered. "But Lucy…"

"Yes?" Hermione asked, eyebrow raised.

"The unknown mother… it was you, wasn't it?"

Hermione saw no point in denying it. "Yes."

"If that is the case," the the other woman said, voice low. "There must have been a reason that you were not recorded to be her mother. The only reason a Pureblood would not list a child's maternity is if the child was the product of an affair, or if there was some other reason which the mother could not be listed - legal reasons. You and Salazar were in fact married, so the latter must be the case. The question remains, what about you was worth hiding?"

"I expect you have a theory, or you would not have spoken up," Hermione mused, hand twitching toward her wand holster, unsure what Narcissa thought she knew, and if or not she'd be keeping her mouth shut in the case she was on the mark.

"I don't believe you had a Sorcerer's Stone when you left the Founders' Era… I believe you had a time turner, and that you were not born to that time, but rather, to this one."

"You have no evidence to support that," Hermione forced herself to say assumptively. "So I question how you would come up with such an… outlandish theory."

"Evidence? No," Narcissa admitted. "Merely an interest in the fact that Hermione _Slytherin_ should arrive at Hogwarts the very day that Hermione _Granger_ was supposedly withdrawn from the same school."

"Have you shared your _theory_ with anyone else?"

Her heart was pounding, presently very unsure of what to make of the woman who had put all the pieces together, and desperately trying to decide if lying or admitting the truth was the best course of action.

"Merlin, no, not a soul," Narcissa countered. "If I'm wrong then I'm wrong and that's fine. But if I'm right then that is information far too valuable to share with just anyone. And, I find that I'd rather work _with_ you than against you if that eases your mind any."

"It does," Hermione admitted. "I will, however, be insisting on the Unbreakable Vow if you wish your memory of this _theory_ to remain intact."

"You just all but admitted that I'm right," came an amused comment.

Hermione didn't justify with a response. "Will you make the Vow, or not?"

"I'd not cross you on the basis of the Lex Excetra alone, however I can understand why you'd be wary. I could share my theory with someone who didn't mind becoming sterile as a result of crossing you, or with someone who was not bound to the Serpent Accord at all. Yes, I will take the Unbreakable Vow, though I will require something in exchange."

"Name your price."

"Your oath to look after my son, and steer him away from his father's influence," came the demand. "I am no fool. I know that the Dark Lord is on the rise again, and I know that my husband will be at his side when the time comes. I do not want my son to follow in his father's footsteps."

"A reasonable exchange, considering I could do nearly the damage you could in sharing my secret, via sharing with Lucius your lack of loyalty to _the cause_ ," Hermione considered. "We will require a Bonder."

"Well we can't ask Lucius," Narcissa mused.

"I should think not!" Hermione laughed. "What about Minerva?"

"I take it that she is aware of your secrets?" the blonde surmised. "And you'd trust her to keep mine?"

"I trust her more than I've ever trusted another," Hermione answered, realizing how very true that statement was.

Narcissa stared at her for a moment, as if trying to work out a puzzle. "You're shagging!" she accused a moment later, eyes wide and a laugh tumbling out of lips. "You and Minerva are shagging!"

Hermione momentarily wondered what it was about the truth of her origins coming out which seemed to inevitably lead to the confession of her and Minerva's romantic involvement. It had been much the same when she'd been confronted by Evelyn Chancellor. "We're involved, yes. I fail to see what is so funny about it."

"It's funny because I was in the generation that bore witness to Minerva chewing out one of the Defense Professors who'd been caught in bed with a sixteen year old student. In the Great Hall, during lunch, for the whole of the school to see. That she would end up involved with a student is highly amusing," Narcissa explained.

"I am not her student, nor have I been for many years," Hermione countered.

"Many years in your mind, perhaps. But to her, she grew attracted to a woman who, a short time prior, had been a fifteen year old student," she replied. "It's a point of view issue. In any case, I am fine with using Minerva as a Bonder. Do you wish to do so now?"

"Forgive me for not being more trusting, but yes. I cannot risk fetching Minerva and returning here with her, for you could call someone in my absence. Do you need to get a coat or something before we go to Hogwarts?"

A House Elf popped into view seconds later, without a single word from the Lady of the Manor. "Yours cloak, Mistress," the middle aged male stated, handing off the garment. A moment after that, he vanished.

"Enwyn has been with me since I was born," Narcissa explained, seeing the question in Hermione's eye. "His magic is linked to my own. I need only think of something I wish for and he is aware. In a society where a witch is mostly isolated from those who do not hold to Pureblood ideology, I find myself having always remained short on true friends, and even shorter on individuals I could truly trust. That Elf has been my truest friend since as long as I can remember. Draco has an Elf, Fyrmir, whom he holds in much the same regard."

Hermione found it of interest the bond that Narcissa had with her Elf, and Draco supposedly had with his own. Lucius certainly did not treat his own Elf - a creature called Dobby if memory served - with anything resembling respect, or even kindness. Still, now was not the time to discuss House Elves. "Shall we?" she asked as soon as her companion had finished fastening her cloak.

A quarter of an hour later found Hermione Slytherin and Narcissa Malfoy - an odd pair if there ever was one - in front of the Transfiguration classroom. Remus, by now, would have begun teaching the post lunch Defense class, and respectively Minerva was already ten minutes into her own class.

"Wait here," Hermione ordered Narcissa. "It wouldn't do for the students to see you. If they reported to their parents that you were here, you'd be hard pressed to come up with a passable excuse for seeking out the Gryffindor Head of House."

"Quite," the other woman agreed.

Hermione rapped twice on the door before letting herself in. "Professor McGonagall, may I interrupt?"

Minerva looked at her in surprise. "I do believe you already have, Professor Slytherin."

"I need a few minutes of your time, now, if possible," Hermione stated, trying to express the urgency with her eyes without alerting the students anything was out of order.

"Of course," the Scottish witch agreed, nodding. "Class, please read chapter three, section four while I'm gone. If you finish that before I return, you can begin work on today's homework…" A flick of her wand and the assignment appeared on the chalkboard. "... three foot essay on the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Be sure to give examples of each of the five if you would like to get a passing mark."

The sound of books being pulled out of bags, placed on wooden desks, and pages being flipped filled the room, drowning out the clack of Minerva's heels as she quickly moved to the back of the room toward the door Hermione was standing in. "This should only take a few minutes," Hermione promised.

Minerva nodded, and followed her paramour out the door, stopping short when she spotted Narcissa, pacing just outside. "Well," she said. "What on _earth_ can I do for you, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"We need a Bonder," Hermione explained.

There was only one use for a Bonder, and Minerva knew it. She was also well aware of the implications of the Unbreakable Vow should the participants fail to hold up their end of the bargain. "You cannot be serious."

"I asked Narcissa to do some research for me," Hermione explained, not going into the topic of said research in an effort to avoid an argument breaking out here in the hall. "In the process of that research, she was able to find enough clues to piece together who I really am. She knows _everything_ , love. I require some measure of assurance she will not sell that information to the highest bidder."

Minerva spared a glare at the blond. "I very much doubt she'd be agreeing to an Unbreakable Vow without some benefit to herself."

"I am only requiring that Hermione look after Draco to the best of her ability," Narcissa spoke for herself. Given her Gryffindor nature, she'd probably be doing so on her own, but given it is _my son_ we're talking about here, this offers her greater incentive to make certain he remains innocent of following his father's footsteps."

Minerva sighed, and Hermione knew that she understood perfectly that there was no argument she could offer to change her lover's mind. It had to be done. "Very well, I assume you both know how this works…"

The two women each offered their left hands, gripping each other just below the elbow, allowing the magic to channel through them both when the Vow sealed.

"Will you, Narcissa Malfoy, swear that you will keep Hermione's secrets safe? That you will not share them with any other, unless Hermione has given you permission to do so? Do you swear that you will take no action that would lead to harm of her person, via direct harm to her, or harm to her family?" Minerva asked.

"I will," Narcissa agreed, and at once the first tendril of magic shot out of Minerva's wand and wrapped around their wrists like a cord.

"And will you, Hermione Slytherin, swear to protect Draco Malfoy from harm, and guide him in such a manner which discourages him from following in his father's footsteps? Do you swear remain vigilant in this task, to the best of your ability?"

"I will," Hermione echoed the blonde. The second tendril of magic shot out of Minerva's wand, joining the first in a weave around the two wrists, spinning for a moment before a bright flash of light and the vanishment of the cords indicated that Unbreakable Vow had been successfully cast.

"I do believe I can see myself back to the Manor," Narcissa commented a moment later. "Minerva, I thank you for your help. Hermione, as always it's been a pleasure, and I will keep you updated if I learn anything new regarding my research."

Minerva opened her mouth, ready to ask what the research was about, but Hermione stopped her in her tracks. "And you, my dear," she said firmly to her lover. "Scuttle on back to class, as I must get to my own. Remus is of course handling things, but I don't wish to abuse the privilege that comes with his presence."

The Scottish witch's mouth snapped shut, and she huffed. "We'll discuss the _research_ later," she stated, and Hermione knew that she was not likely to get out of it. In any case, what was Minerva going to do? Give her detention? Take away points?

Two more classes and the evening meal later, Hermione walked into the fruits of her earlier labor when, while starting with her evening rounds with Minerva, the two women stumbled upon Albus, Dolores, and the Carrows in the main courtyard, the Headmaster having just handed Dolores the order from the Ministry demanding she and her companions' immediate departures from Hogwarts.

"Headmaster, there must be some mistake!" the pink-clad woman exclaimed. "The Minister himself…"

"Was overruled by the Board of Governors this afternoon, I'm afraid," Albus replied. "It seems that they were not too keen on the notion of their children being subjected to the use of Blood Quills."

"I told you that was a stupid idea, Umbridge! We were to keep under the radar!" the female of the Carrows - Hermione had never bothered learning their given names - claimed.

"Shut your mouth!" Dolores demanded, flicking a silencing charm at the other woman. "It doesn't matter, really. I can still complete my task. It only takes a moment, after all."

Hermione and Minerva both took her words for what they were - a threat. Hermione knew Albus believed Minerva to be the target, and Minerva still believed Hermione to be the target. Albus quickly moved to stand in front of them, obviously covering all his bases in one move. All six of the adults seemed to be tensing for a duel, and a moment later, it began.

Albus made the first move, shooting off a messenger Patronus - probably to Severus or Filius, to warn them to keep students away from this area. Dolores, of course, knew that would alert others of what was happening, and she only had a few minutes before it was no longer three to three odds.

Minerva took the male Carrow, Hermione took the female, and Albus and Dolores faced off. The Ministry woman, Hermione noted, was actually a very good duelist, using her short stature to her advantage, not unlike Filius was known to do. Sparks flew, wands clashed, and Hermione didn't have much time to think as she, Minerva, and Albus stood back to back to create the best defense in such an open area.

At first, the spells used were neutral at best, though as the minutes wore on the Carrows and Dolores reached into darker spells, eventually climaxing with the use of all three Unforgivable Curses.

The Cruciatus Curse brought Hermione to her knees, gritting her teeth in an effort not to cry out as pain coursed through her body continuously, second after second and every one of them counting.

The Imperius Curse forced Minerva to stop firing at her target, and begin to move away from the protective defense formation. She moved slowly, obviously fighting every step and completely aware that either she was being removed for the sake of not being able to protect one of the others, or she was being removed to make her a clear target. Neither option was good.

Then, as Hermione lay struggling to breathe on the ground alone, Albus moved to follow Minerva's position. The pain in her body began fading away just in time for her to watch Dolores fire the Killing Curse, _Avada Kadavra,_ at Minerva.

"NO!" she screamed, finding her breath.

Albus saw the curse firing, green, fast, and reeking of impending death, just the same as Hermione saw it. Both knew that Minerva could not move. The Defense Professor felt tears beginning to fall down her cheeks as she realized what was about to happen. Albus leapt in front of the curse meant for Minerva, and Hermione stared, wide eyed, knowing that one or the other was about to die.

The surprise move of Albus startled the Carrow man, who'd been holding Minerva under the Imperius, into releasing the curse, at which point Minerva hurried forward, even if she had to know that there was next to no chance it wouldn't hit one of them. They were too close together, with no time to get out of the way.

So, when the Killing Curse struck Albus, he fell into Minerva's shaking arms, eyes wide and fighting for another breath that would not come. "Live, Minerva," he gasped out.

A moment later, to the shock of those already present and the newly arrived Severus, Filius, and Remus, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, was dead.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	35. Chapter 35

**Another long chapter. I seem to be unable to control myself anymore. I would say 'please enjoy', but I'm pretty sure you're gunna need tissues.**

* * *

It was mid-October, and the weather was turning cool. Albus Dumbledore, to the surprise of nobody, was being laid to rest today on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the place that had been his home for as long as most alive could remember. Minerva was wrapped in a heavy cloak to ward of the chill, but it seemed that no clothing, and no warming charms, could warm her right now. She felt numb, as if she'd been doused in ice water and left in sopping wet attire in the coldest place on earth. Her heart was beating slowly - too slowly to make her feel alive right now. And the truth was that a part of her had died when her best friend had taken a killing curse for her, and as far as she was concerned, nothing would ever be the same. Albus had been her rock. He'd been the man to fix the unfixable, and handle anything that the world could throw their way.

Leaves tossed and turned around the gathered crowd, brown and breaking as the embodied the death the Wizarding World was facing right now. Minerva's stomach lurched as she watched, as if she was on a ship in the middle of a horrible storm, nausea setting in so deep inside her that she was certain she'd never feel well again. Hermione's hand was gripping hers tightly, a silent reassurance and an anchor to keep her in the present. Without Hermione here, Minerva wondered if she would have survived that first night. Sorrow was incapacitating enough, but the guilt she felt was on the verge of breaking her. Hermione stood firm and strong beside her, though Minerva knew her lover well enough to know the younger woman was forcing herself to hide her tears today, because Minerva needed to know that someone could hold her up now that Albus was gone.

Minerva glanced to her left, noticing the boys. Harry, like Hermione, seemed to be holding himself together for the most part. Of course, he was no stranger to death. Dudley, to Minerva's surprise, was weeping openingly, as if he had been as close to Albus as she herself had been and more. As the Headmaster's casket was lowered into place, a marble thing far too heavy to move without the aid of multiple levitation charms, Dudley let out a choked sob. It was the first sound she'd ever heard come out of the boy's mouth, and unconsciously, she moved away from Hermione and wrapped her arms around the young wizard, her own pain being set aside for a moment for the sake of his own.

"It's senseless," a small voice sounded from his lips. "Murder. Why'd that stupid woman have to kill him? Why'd my stupid father have to kill my mum?"

"I wish I knew, dear boy," she whispered, pulling his body tightly against her own as tears feel freely down both their cheeks. "I wish I knew."

"It's not fair," he mumbled.

"No, it's not," she agreed.

Hermione, it appeared, had not really been blind to the exchange, though Harry was currently curled up on the ground holding tightly to Sirius, who'd come in his Animagus form. The Defense Professor wrapped her slender arms around both of them. "I promise you both," she said, voice catching. "It _is_ going to be okay. Not today, not tomorrow, but in time, it _will_ be okay."

Minerva was alerted to Harry and Sirius joining them a few minutes later, upon seeing a dog's tongue gently licking away Dudley's tears. She mustered a small glare at the black dog, as if to warn the Animagus that she'd hex him if he tried to lick her. Alternately, Sirius returned to all fours and placed his head under Minerva's hand, which was hanging limply at her side. Surprisingly, the warm canine body seemed to take away some of the chill still clinging to her body. She scratched his head absently, wondering if he was comforting her, or if it was the other way around. Albus had done a lot for Sirius as well. Albus had done a lot for everyone.

That was his legacy.

About half hour later, the large crowd began to dissipate, and Minerva was unsurprised to see her brother Robert moving her way through the mass of people. While younger than herself, and younger still than Albus, he and the Headmaster had shared a deep friendship that had stood the test of time. Neither had ever admitted to such, but Minerva suspected that at one point, they'd even been lovers. While more unalike than they were similar, the two men seemed to balance each other out. Where Albus had been the instinct, the humor, and the no small amount of chaos, Robert had been the logic, the grounding, and the ordered individual. Minerva was sure that for as broken as she felt right now, Robert was much in the same boat.

He reached her, and wrapped his strong arms around his sister. "There, there, mo chridhe," he whispered. "Be certain Albus is watching us still. He's not really gone."

"Probably laughing at my smudged makeup," Minerva sniffled. "The arse."

"Well you are looking a bit like a racoon," he admitted, pulling out his wand and casting a quick series of spells to right her tear streaked face. "Now then, that's better."

Minerva glanced behind her, making certain that Hermione was doing alright with the boys as she spoke with Robert; a glance that did not go unnoticed by her brother. "Oh don't give me that look," she said, seeing his arched eyebrow.

"I'll inquire about your love life another time," he conceded. "I am officially here to inform you that the Board of Governors have voted and effective now, you are the Headmistress of Hogwarts."

Minerva reached out and took the parchment in her brother's hand, and to her surprise she was suddenly overwhelmed with sensation. It didn't feel like she was being cursed - quite the opposite in fact. It was as if she was feeling alive for the first time. Like being born again. She could suddenly sense everything around her; every stone, every plant, every animal on the grounds of Hogwarts. She could sense heartbeats all around her, and the emotions that the owners were feeling. In a sea of sadness she felt a wave of concern, and turned to see Hermione watching her carefully. Somehow, her lover seemed to know something was off kilter. In fact, by the lack of confusion, Minerva suspected that Hermione knew more than she did.

The brunette said something to Sirius, probably and request that he mind the boys, and she moved over to where Minerva and Robert were standing. "Min, are you alright?" she asked softly.

Robert seemed to have noticed how off balance she was at the moment, though from him Minerva sensed confusion. "I just handed her the order from the Board giving her the Headship," he explained to Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "Breathe for me, honey," she said, pulling her lover into her arms. "Just breathe. Focus on my voice. Come back into yourself. That's it…"

Minerva did as she was told and a few seconds later, the din of emotions around her seemed to fade away. They were still there, but it wasn't overwhelming her any longer. "Thank you," she whispered into her lover's curly mane.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on?" Robert demanded.

Hermione pulled away from Minerva, and eyed Robert. "Barrister McGonagall, I take it?"

He looked startled that she knew who he was. "You have me at a disadvantage, Madam," he said. "You are?"

Hermione looked at Minerva, asking a silent question, and while the two women had long mastered the skill of communicating without words, in this moment, Minerva could sense Hermione's thoughts as though she'd asked her query out loud. _Can he be trusted_?

Minerva nodded.

"I am Hermione Slytherin," the brunette introduced herself, offering her hand. "Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor here at Hogwarts."

Robert shook the proffered hand with a smile. "And I suspect, my sister's paramour."

Hermione chuckled. "And there's that McGonagall bluntness!"

Minerva glared at her brother, then turned her attention back to Hermione. "I trust you can explain what just happened?"

"I can, but not now," she replied. "Finish catching up with Robert. I need to get our boys home."

Minerva nodded, ignoring as Robert silently mouthed the words ' _our boys'_ in amused question. Once Hermione was out of earshot, she turned back to her brother and gave him a brief summery just so he'd drop the subject. " _Yes,_ I am involved with Hermione. _Our boys_ , Harry and Dudley, are both her wards, whom I have also developed a parental bond with. Hermione and I have been together almost a year now. Yes, I'm certain her surname gives you cause to stop and wonder, and until I have a chance to speak to her I will not be telling you how she came by that name in the first place. She has secrets, and they are hers to share or not share."

Robert held his hands up in defeat. "Alright then, Min. Might I change the subject, now that's all cleared up? I did have other matters I wanted to discuss."

She knew exactly what he wanted to know. "The Order."

"Obviously Albus held Headship of Hogwarts and Headship of the Order, and he has passed at least Hogwarts to you," Robert stated. "So I'm wondering if you will also take Headship of the Order, or if it will be someone else."

"I honestly don't know," Minerva admitted. "The reading of his will is tomorrow. I dearly hope he's had good sense enough to hand over the Headship of the Order to someone else. I'm not sure I could handle both. In any case, what you are really asking is if whoever it is will be trustworthy, and I am surprised you'd even question. Albus was a great judge of character. I'm sure who ever he stated was to take over the Order in the event of his death is, they will be trustworthy and a worthy leader besides."

"What I worry about is if he bothered naming anyone at all," Robert replied. "The man wasn't exactly a picture of order. Merlin knows when he last updated his will. For all we know, he listed someone who has been dead for ages. What then? A vote?"

"I suppose."

"That could end badly."

"I don't think so. Hermione would win the vote in landslide," Minerva said thoughtfully. "In fact if Albus was smart enough to write his wishes down regarding Headship of the Order, I would not be surprised if Hermione was his successor choice."

"Not Severus?" Robert asked speculatively.

"While Severus is certainly an able general, he lacks the people skills it takes to lead a group of people who are not accustomed to _taking orders_ ," she reasoned.

"True," he conceded the point. "However, people skills alone is not going to win the war. She would need to have a general's mind, as well."

Minerva laughed outright. "Oh Robert. Just get to know the woman. She's fire and ice with nerves of steel, and makes me look like an idiot child with her intellect, most days. She'd be a better leader than Albus ever was. He wasn't… hard enough. Merlin knows I loved the man, but he did have his failings."

"I know he did," her brother said softly.

She and Robert spent another half hour catching up, hardly noticing the crowds getting thinner and thinner, before he noticed her shivering and told her to get herself up to the castle, promising he'd be in touch soon. As she trudged up the hill toward the entrance hall, Minerva thought about the last several days. Hermione had discovered Dolores was using Blood Quills on the students, and had tightly taken the issue to Albus. Albus had agreed with Hermione, that Dolores needed to be removed from Hogwarts, and the Headmaster asked the Defense Professor to utilize her influence with Lucius Malfoy to make that happen. After that, there had been the duel. Minerva had known that Dolores was a nasty piece of work, but she had not expected her to be _dark_. There were plenty of unpleasant people in the world, and it was a rarity that a sour demeanor was indicative of a person being a dark witch or wizard.

Minerva shuddered as she remembered, in perfect clarity, each spell that was cast and how it had ultimately led to a sudden, relaxed feeling; warm, cozy, and making her feel perfectly agreeable to whatever Dolores wanted her to do. Such was the nature of the Imperius Curse, and that sensation was the beginning of a new battle between the voices in her head. She could hear Dolores ordering her to move away from Albus and Hermione, and she could hear her own thoughts recognizing how very much of a bad idea Dolores' idea was. The final voice…

She sighed. Albus had projected into her mind, using advanced Legilimency to help her fight the Imperius. Minerva had never heard of either Legilimency or Occlumency being used in that manner, and knowing Albus the idea had occurred to him at the moment. Had he not died, he might have gotten an academic paper out of it, as his efforts had been the only thing stopping her from turning her wand on him and Hermione. Minerva knew the Imperius could be resisted with practice, and made a mental note to talk to Hermione about working on that skill together. She never wanted to be in that position again. She never wanted to experience the guilt that would have surely followed had she harmed her friends while under that Unforgivable Curse. Telling someone 'it wasn't your fault' only helps so much.

Minerva wouldn't say there was a good outcome to that duel. Yes, between Albus and Hermione, the attack on her life had failed, but the cost had been Albus' life, and to make matters worse, Dolores and the Carrows had escaped, bolting away from the scene of the crime as she, Hermione, Remus, and Filius looked at Albus' body in shock. Severus being Severus had put aside his grief in that moment and taken chase, but it had been three against one at that point, and Hermione had found him near the edge of the wards, in a full body bind, about a quarter of an hour later. They were lucky that Dolores and her lackeys had not just killed him outright. Severus had speculated that, given his status of Death Eater, they'd looked at him as one of their own who was only giving chase to keep up appearances.

Minerva stepped into the entry hall and made directly to the stairs that would lead her up a few floors, and eventually to Hermione's quarters. Well, it might as well be _their_ quarters, with as seldom as she stayed in her own anymore. She suspected Hermione was putting off asking her to move in officially until she'd had a chance to talk to the boys about the nature of their relationship, which of course Minerva understood. That said, Harry and Dudley were well accustomed to her just barging in without knocking, so with a quietly uttered password, she stepped into the two bedroom suite. For the time being, the boys were sharing a room, though Minerva thought that in light of her promotion, she might suggest Hermione move to quarters a bit larger, to allow Harry and Dudley each their own space.

"Hey Minerva," Harry said sullenly.

"Hello Professor McGonagall," Dudley greeted nervously.

She eyed the latter boy for a moment before giving him an encouraging smile. "Dudley, you are more than welcome to call me _Minerva_ as well. We're family."

"Okay," he whispered. Obviously, the funeral had awoken his voice, though Minerva suspected it would be some time still before he was what one might call _conversational_. Still, it was a step in the right direction. Dourif would be thrilled he could start taking his charge up to the next level of spell casting.

It was no surprise that Minerva found Hermione in her office nook, quietly speaking to Severus and Dourif as to not be overheard by her wards. "Hermione?" she questioned.

Said woman looked up, and offered a small smile. "Join us, Min," she greeted. "We were just discussing your promotion."

Minerva's eyebrow arched. "If you're looking for a raise in your Potions budget, Severus, we'll discuss it at the next staff meeting, where I'm sure everyone else will be raising issues that Albus steadfastly ignored. I need to have a look at where the budget stands before making any promises."

Severus rolled his eyes. "We were talking about the Deputy position, not budget issues."

"I had Filius in mind," she expressed. "He's got the longest tenure behind myself. That's usually how the Deputy position is determined."

"I don't care who it is, so long as it isn't me," Severus stated. "If the Dark Lord does rise again, which we all know is likely, then putting me in the Deputy position is just asking for him to coordinate your assassination, in an effort to put me in the Head's office."

"Filius is the best choice," Hermione agreed with her paramour. "He's loyal, an Order member, and an able wizard besides. The issue we're debating is if or not to tell him the full truth of who I am. In a worst case scenario, if you were to die and he became Headmaster, I am not certain he'd trust me as you do - Merlin knows he already has questions - and for the safety of myself and the boys, I need the Head of Hogwarts to be able to trust me, and I him or her."

"On the other hand, the more people you tell the full truth to, the greater risk of exposure," Dourif argued.

"I can hardly argue that point, as I don't know what Hermione's great secret is, aside from her being married to the Founder of my House," Severus said pointedly. "And I am _not_ asking. Merely stating that I cannot be objective to this point."

Hermione nodded. "I see Leland's point, but given that we already know that Minerva is a target, I feel it unwise to allow her potential successor to remain blind. Of course, this is only if he becomes Deputy. He's allowed to turn down the promotion."

Minerva nodded in agreement, though she very much doubted Filius would say _no_. While she did not believe it was ever his ambition to become Headmaster, he was if nothing else a loyal friend, and would know how great a help he could be as her Deputy, and take the position on that desire to help alone. "Hermione, how about you and I go down to speak with him now? I'll offer him the promotion, and if he accepts we can fill him in on the truth right away."

The younger woman nodded in agreement and turned to the men. "Leland, would you mind staying with the boys till I get back? I don't want them to be alone right now…"

"I'm leaving," Severus said. Minerva knew he was excusing himself before Hermione could suggest he stay as well. "I will see you all at the staff meeting tomorrow afternoon."

With that, he was gone, earning an amused smirk from Hermione and an eye roll from Minerva. Dourif appeared more focused on Dudley's newfound voice than his colleague's departure, and Minerva grudgingly admitted that the man she loathed did seem to be doing well with the boys. At some point, she knew she was going to have to let go of the past and accept Dourif for who he was now, but it was not going to be today.

"You ready?" Hermione asked her.

Minerva nodded, and the two of them made their way from Hermione's quarters to Filius' ten minutes later. The diminutive Charms Professor was sans his typically cheerful demeanor when he answered his door. Like everyone else, he was mourning. "Minerva," he greeted softly. Then, he noticed the parchment in her hand with the Ministry seal. "Headmistress," he corrected himself.

"Filius, there is no need for formality today, just as there was no need for it yesterday and every day before for the last several decades," she said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He nodded. "Come in, both of you," he invited, noticing Hermione standing quietly behind Minerva. "What can I help you with, my friend?"

"As you surmised, I have been made Headmistress of Hogwarts," she said with a sigh. "Not that you wouldn't have been my first choice in any case, given your tenure length is only second to my own, the Deputy promotion belongs to you, should you accept it."

Filius chuckled. "May I remind you that I was brought on the staff in the fall of nineteen fifty-nine as nothing but a substitute teacher when the tenured one died suddenly two weeks into term? I was only supposed to stay a few weeks till a new Professor could be hired."

"Thirty-six years later…" Minerva chuckled.

"Tell me about it!" the half-goblin sighed. "Of course, you know I will take the position, if only to ease your burden. We all knew you'd be Head before long, but we hoped Albus would just retire, not pass from this world, and certainly not the way he did."

"I suppose that hands the floor to me," Hermione said, taking a deep breath. "If you are to be Minerva's Deputy, then there is something that you should know."

"Would this be the something that the Order members are not privy to, regarding your background?" Filius asked, turning to the other witch in the room.

"It is," the Defense Professor replied. "But you're a smart man, Filius. Do you have a guess?"

The Charms Professor offered a sly grin. "The Order knows that you are not Amelia, but rather _Hermione_ Slytherin, and that you came by that surname via marriage to _Salazar_ Slytherin, who lived and died ten centuries ago. Now, there really are only two known theories as to how you could have been there and be here. The first, as the Lex Excetra perpetuates, is that you were in possession of a Sorcerer's Stone when you left Hogwarts all those ages ago, and have simply been here and there, laying low, till quite recently. Personally, I find it unlikely that you could have remained invisible to any record in all that time. Possible, but not probable. The other option is that you left the Founders Era via timeturner or something _like_ a time turner, and for some reason decided to come forward one-thousand years in time."

"You are partly correct," Hermione gave. "I did indeed come to this time from that one via time turner. But my reason for coming forward all those years was simply an issue of correcting a mistake that happened here, at Hogwarts, thirty odd years ago by my reckoning, though only about a year and a half by yours. I came forward in time to come _home_."

Filius ran the dates over in his mind for a moment before blinking, shaking his head, and letting out a long breath. "It's so obvious when you consider that this might have been your original timeline. You're Hermione _Granger_."

She nodded. "I trust you understand this must remain a closely guarded secret."

"I understand everything," he assured her, offering a knowing smile at Minerva. "Everything about you, all of the things that have left me confused, make perfect sense now that I know who you really are. Saving Sirius? Raising Harry? Not turning away a supposedly muggle boy? Your kindness to non-purebloods despite the fact that you yourself are assumed to be a member of pureblood society's elite? All of it!"

Minerva had to chuckle. Filius always got excited at the prospect of a puzzle solved. While any other man might have felt burdened by a great secret, he and that Ravenclaw brain of his relished in the metaphorical chess match that he was not being included in. Minerva was glad Hermione had opted to tell him, because while most looked at him dismissively unless discussing Charms, she knew that Filius was wise, and clever, and had a great analytical mind which would be of use in the coming war. They would be lucky to have him on their side, especially now that the greatest Chessmaster of them all was dead and buried.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	36. Chapter 36

**Well, the will of Dumbledore was SUPPOSED to be just the first part of Chapter 36, but when the will segment ended up being nearly 3k on it's own, and I still had two other scenes to write, neither of which I expect to be short... I opted to break it up into two chapters. Thusly, here's part one. Off to write part two.**

* * *

Hermione watched, silently, as Minerva spoke lowly to her brother Robert, all of them in the Head's office awaiting the last of their party's arrival. Finally, Poppy bounded in, apologizing for her tardiness, per a student requiring her attention. In addition to Poppy, Molly and Arthur Weasley were here, as well as herself and the four Heads of House; Minerva, Severus, Filius, and Pomona. Beyond Hogwarts staff members and the Weasleys, Aberforth Dumbledore was here, as was Rosmerta Dobbs, Elphias Doge, and lastly, to Hermione's surprise, was Perenelle Flamel, who Hermione thought had died along with her husband Nicolas after the Sorcerers Stone was destroyed the summer between her first and second years at Hogwarts. Evidently not.

"Now that we're all here," Robert's clipped voice sounded, "Let's get started. Everyone please find a seat, and I'll begin with the reading of Albus' will."

There was a shuffling of feet and chairs as everyone moved to form a crescent shape around there transfigured podium that Minerva had created for her brother's use. A minute later, he cleared his throat, and the reading began.

"This is the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, last updated August the twenty-seventh, of nineteen ninety-five. If you are being read this letter, then I have died. For me, it's the beginning of something new, the next great adventure, but for those dear friends and family I've left behind, there are some things to be said, and gifts to be bestowed, which I hope will allow you to remember me fondly.

To Rosmerta Dobbs: when I attended Hogwarts with your grandmother, I could never have guessed that her grand-daughter would become one of my most trusted friends. Where she and I were constantly at odds - her Head Girl to my Head Boy - I've never found your own forthright nature to create tension between us as it did for her and I. I have been blessed to know you, and lucky to be able to call you friend. My gift to you is this altered deed to the Three Broomsticks…"

At this, Robert handed Rosmerta a bit of rolled parchment.

"... which formally makes your wonderful establishment a part of Hogwarts grounds, offering it indefinite protection, and will no longer cost you a monthly fee. May the profits of your services help to build a better future for you and that wonderful little girl of yours.

Rosmerta had tears streaming down her cheeks, and Hermione watched as Molly coddled the other woman, offering a handkerchief.

"To Elphias Doge: my dear friend. My comrade in youth and in arms, and in everything life threw our way. You always did say I'd end up going first, because where you made many, small mistakes, I was the one too often right in word and action, though when I did make mistakes, they tended to be rather large ones. Likely, one such mistake cost me my life. I suppose 'I'm sorry' is not going to mean anything at this point, nor will 'you were right', but know this, Elphias - for all my mistakes over the years, I believe the best decision I ever made was sticking up for that small, scared little boy I saw being bullied by a couple of Slytherins, that first day of Hogwarts for us. No regrets, my friend. To you, I leave decades worth of my personal journals, which include many memories of you and me, and perhaps even insight into why I did the things I did, especially in those moments it left us at odds with each other."

Elphias nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and took the rather large box that Robert was handing him. The box held the story of Albus' life, and he was trusting it to one person. It really showed how close the two men had been.

"To Aberforth Dumbledore: my brother. I wish I could look back on our youth without regret, but we both know that some terrible things happened back then, and for my part in those events, I am deeply sorry. You'll never know how much I regret what happened to our sister, and how it impacted our parents and changed our lives forever. It may have not been my wand that cast the curse, but I hold myself responsible for Ariana's death. I say this now because Gryffindor that I may be, I could never find the courage to tell you directly. I was too afraid you'd forgive me, when I feel it's the last thing I deserve. To you, Aberforth, I leave what remains of the Dumbledore Estate, as it is rightfully yours. Further, like I've arranged for Rosmerta, the Hog's Head is now a part of Hogwarts, and thereby you will never need to worry about Ministry interference at your place of business, for the rest of your life. Live it well, Abe."

Robert handed off two scrolls to Aberforth, one the deed to the Hog's Head, and the other the paperwork for the Dumbledore Estate. Hermione took note of how stiffly the younger Dumbledore was sitting, though otherwise his expression was blank, and she couldn't tell what else he might be feeling. Given the situation, it was probably a mixed bag of emotion for him.

"To Perenelle Flamel," Robert continued reading. "You have been there since the day I was born, in some ways being as a second mother to me, much as Nicolas was a second father. When my parents passed, you and he were there for me, allowing me to grieve while everyone else expected me to be strong. I could never thank you enough for that. Over the years, I had my research with Nicolas, and I had the many conversations with you, some of which let out secrets that I don't suppose you meant to tell me. My final bit of advice to you, my dear, is that you don't wait too much longer to tell her the truth. It's been more than long enough. My gift to you are the enclosed memories. Perhaps if you see what I've seen, you'll be ready for that reunion you've long spoken of."

Robert handed Perenelle a small package, presumably containing the memories he spoke of. Hermione was curious about his words to the rather elderly woman. For that matter, she looked sort of familiar, though Hermione had no idea where she might have met Perenelle before. Of course, Hermione wasn't the only one whose secrets Albus was aware of. He had, after all, been around for a long time.

"To Filius Flitwick: you have been, since the day we met, my conscience. Do you remember, a week after you joined the staff, the argument we had that resulted in a duel? It was the first time anyone had bested me in any kind of fight, though not the last. I had a broken arm, a bruised ego, and at the end of it, I was far more humble than I'd been and a better man for it. Even though I am your elder, you have been like an older brother to me, skillfully tempering my personality like a Goblin tempers steel into the best that it could be. I would have been half the man I grew to be without your guiding hand. Never doubt your value, my friend. To you, Filius, I leave a large stack of books on various subjects, which we both know you've read more times than I have, though you could not afford copies of those books to have your own copies. Yes, I know, I might have just given you a raise."

Filius let out a chuckle at the last comment, though he too was wiping away tears as he placed his hand on the box of books which Robert was levitating toward his chair.

"To Minerva McGonagall: Hogwarts is yours now, my dear. I trust that you will treat her well, and allow her to protect you if the need arises. As Head of Hogwarts, this school becomes your spouse, which of course would make Amelia your mistress, and as I imagine that will keep everyone quite happy. Mistresses have all the fun, so I've heard. Beyond Hogwarts, I leave you those books in my collection that were not set aside for Filius. You, more than anyone else, will appreciate them. You were the daughter I never had, and never knew I wanted. I couldn't be prouder. You have become everything I could have expected, and more."

"I was not about to lug his entire book collection in here, Min," Robert said with a wry grin. "We'll get that sorted later."

She nodded, and as the first tear fell from her own eyes, Hermione leaned close and wrapped Minerva in her arms. "It's okay, love," she whispered into the older woman's neck.

"To Robert McGonagall: my longtime….ehem."

"What was that, Rob?" Minerva asked, very interested in the fact that her brother's flawless public speaking skills had suddenly failed. Hermione suspected that she knew exactly what Robert was trying to avoid saying.

"To Robert McGonagall," he started again, glaring at his sister. "My longtime lover, and dearest friend…"

Several gasps echoed around the room.

"Oh my," Poppy said.

"... words cannot express how much I wish that we could have been open about our relationship, even though we both had reasons to keep it quiet. I wish I could have given you the life you deserved. I wish that our children had truly been our children, and not just the hundreds of charges that you helped me watch year after year during the course of their educations. Most of those children don't even know that you were watching them as well, though I remember how, when one of those children would come to work at the Ministry, you'd take them under your wing, much to their surprise. I wish they they'd known why. I wish they'd known that they were our sons and daughters. What things were ours are yours to hold on to. There is no greater gift I can give to you than the items which hold memories of us. I love you, Robert."

The last few sentences were read with a cracked voice, forcing the words out as tears cascaded down his face. A moment of silence followed, as those in the room adjusted to the fact that Albus Dumbledore had deeply loved someone, and that they had loved him in return. Robert took the time to compose himself, before taking a deep breath and continuing to read.

"To Poppy Pomfrey: I'm quite certain there's not many alive today that don't owe you a thank you or ten. You've spent a lifetime seeing to the physical, mental, and emotional well-being of everyone who crossed your path, whether or not they were actually a patient of yours. More than my mediwitch, you have been my dear friend. You were one of the few who could get me to do the things I didn't want to to, usually regarding my health, though not always. 'Don't be such a stubborn hippogriff!' was one of my favorite of your demands. I have no way of predicting the manner of my death, but were it an instance where you feel you could have saved my life, please do not feel guilty on my account. I made my choices. Besides, everyone has a time to die. This was mine, whatever the cause. I urge you to continue doing what you've always done, seeing to the needs of those around you, but don't forget to look after yourself, my dear. To you, I leave fifty vials of Phoenix tears, to help you do what you do best - save lives. Fifty vials: one for each year Hogwarts has been blessed to have you. Fawkes, of course, will leave with my passing, but I hope that with the coming war, you will find good use for the ultimate healing potion."

Poppy looked about ready to pass out at the notion of that many phoenix tears. For that matter, Severus looked a bit envious of the gift she'd been given, though if Hermione was honest, she was as well. It was a highly valuable offering. Poppy's tears, as with everyone else's, were dribbling down her face as she took the box from Robert. He returned to the podium, and continued to read.

"To Amelia Slytherin: my dear, you have been, these last few years, a breath of fresh air to my life. You, like Minerva, have become like a daughter to me, and while I leave Headship of Hogwarts to her, I leave Headship of the Order to you. I believe that you will ultimately do a better job at it than I would, as you tend not to believe in the idea of acceptable losses, whereas I have been known to favor the greater good, sometimes at terrible cost. Stay true to the girl you were when we first met. Further, I leave you a letter, which I believe will contain some information you'll find helpful in the years to come. Someone once told me, 'The best gift you can give a leader is information they don't already have.' Hopefully, at least some of the enclosed will be news to you."

Hermione seemed to be the only one to take her gift from Robert without tears falling - not that she wasn't in mourning, but she was a private person and was not inclined to cry in front of such a large group. Of course, if this list was going alphabetically as it seemed to be, then Severus was next, and she doubted he'd be shedding tears in front of anyone either. Sure enough…

"To Severus Snape: I promised you once to never reveal the best of you, which is a hard promise to keep as I compose my final thoughts. Ultimately, I think there's only one thing you need to be reminded of. It doesn't matter what you believe. Just believe it. Fight for it. To you, I leave my Pensieve, for you will make the most use of it. Besides, the only other person who may need it is Amelia, and I believe you'll need each other before the end. Best get used to her being around, Severus. Be well, my friend."

Severus solemnly took the package, not offering a show of emotion. Of course, no one had really expected the dour man to cry. Knowing that the list was winding down, Robert took a sip of water and then continued.

"To Pomona Sprout: I remember the day you came to Hogwarts with a mass of dark curly hair, an orphan who'd only six months before been told she was a witch, and already knowing more about Herbology than most NEWT level students. Herbert had already approached me about making you an apprentice by the time you had completed your OWLs, and sure enough directly after you graduated, he took you on. You remained at Hogwarts until he retired, and you replaced him. You my dear, have never known another home. While I do hope you remain here for years to come, at some point I'd imagine you'd like to retire, and as you tend to spend most of your salary on the plants that you so dearly love, my gift to you is a small cottage with plenty of room for a personal garden. The deed and details are enclosed. Be well, my dear."

Pomona was beside herself in a matter of seconds. Both Poppy and Minerva got out of their seats, and went directly to comfort their coworker. Hermione nearly got up to do the same, when she realized that the Weasleys were up next, and that she'd be better suited to comfort Molly. So, she waited.

"Last, to Arthur and Molly Weasley: You two have have produced seven of the best children I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. It is a testament to the kind of parents you are, and I dearly wish there were more parents as dedicated as you are. More than the morals you've instilled, you've always put their needs above your own, often making sacrifices. Arthur, I know you love your job, and I know it has put clothes on your childrens' backs and food in their bellies, but it's left little for you and that wonderful wife of yours. My gift to you both is a sum of money, which you'll find has been deposited in your Gringotts account. This should allow you to spend a little on yourselves now and then, and give you enough to set aside for retirement. Further, the remainder of Ronald and Ginevra's educational expenses will be covered by the Hogwarts budget. Minerva will give you the details. My best wishes to you both in your future.

My warmest regards to you all.

Albus Dumbledore

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	37. Chapter 37

**And thus ends the fourth and final chapter of what I dubbed "The Albus Death Series"... meaning that after this chapter, the plot will continue to move forward. Hope you all enjoy! A big THANK YOU to all my readers and reviewers. This chapter should get me just about to the 100,000 word mark, which is a MASSIVE deal to me, and I would not have gotten here without all of your support! Special thanks goes to my amazing Beta Holli, without whom every other review would probably say "You have a typo there." or "You spelled such and such wrong." I'd be screwed without you, Cherri!**

* * *

Everyone went their separate ways after leaving the Head's office, including Hermione and Minerva. Everyone was intent on taking a closer look at their bestowments, or just contemplating Albus' last words to them. Hermione, of course, headed back to her quarters and found a quiet corner to sit and read the letter that Albus had left for her. She wanted to resent the former Headmaster for handing off the Order of the Phoenix to her - it wasn't as if she was in need of additional responsibility - but in reality she was grateful, because she knew that the Order's primary task was to see to the end of Voldemort, and Harry wouldn't be truly safe until that happened.

Becoming Head of the Order, especially with the Head of Hogwarts being the person she was closest to, was the best case if she meant to protect her ward. There would be no hidden info she wasn't privy to. Anything the Order knew, she would know, and the more she knew, the better prepared she was to plan Voldemort's demise. She was already going over a mental checklist of things she needed to organize before the first meeting with her in charge, but before she even started planning that out, she needed to know whatever Albus had kept from the rest of the Order in the months and years prior to his passing. She knew that's what his letter was about.

My Dear Hermione,

It is my intention to tell you this in the near future, but in the case I didn't get that chance, I need to explain why, between you and Minerva, I chose her for Head of Hogwarts and you for Head of the Order. We both know you would have been equally qualified to do either, or I could have left both positions to one of you. However, Minerva is a Wardling. She does not know. If you are not already familiar with Wardlings, you'll find the information you need in a book of mine titled Foundations of Hogwarts, which should be in Minerva's possession at this juncture. Her being a Wardling makes her the only choice for Hogwarts in the current political climate. On the flip side of that coin, I found it difficult to juggle Hogwarts, the Order, and my relationship with Robert all at once, and I'm me! I did not want that pressure on Minerva, and in any case, I believe you would be better at making the hard choices than she could be, and that will be needed from time to time.

Regarding Severus: for as lacking in good cheer as that man is, he is a brilliant wizard, and an excellent strategist. Were I not dead, I'd have considered him my most trusted General, and I urge you to do the same. The thing you have to understand about him, and he'll never forgive me for telling you this, but he is the reason that Harry's parents are dead, and he is also the reason that Harry remained mostly unscathed before you returned from your trip through time. You see, when Severus was a child, he lived in a muggle neighborhood, and one day met a pretty little girl called Lily Evans, whom he befriended when he realized that as he was a wizard, she was a witch. They came to Hogwarts together, he to Slytherin and she to Gryffindor. Where Severus was teased by most of his housemates, Lily was popular with her fellow Gryffindors, and very quickly grabbed the attention of a young James Potter, who was part of a group who were Severus' primary tormentors. By their fourth or fifth years, both James and Severus had fallen in love with young Lily. As you are aware, James ultimately won her affections, which drove Severus into the service of Voldemort - pressured by his Slytherin peers to do so, and willing to do anything to forget the pain of losing Lily to his greatest enemy.

About six months after Harry's birth, Severus overheard a conversation between myself and the Divination Professor that I was interviewing at the time. I had been meeting with Sybil that day as a courtesy, given that her grandmother was a highly respected Seer. I had no intention of hiring her for the position. However, halfway through that interview, she make her first, and to date only prophecy.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Severus only heard part of the that prophecy, and reported it back to Voldemort. Voldemort then found two possible candidates - two boys both born at the end of that July. One, on July 30th, was Neville Longbottom. The second, born that very next day, was your ward, Harry Potter. The Longbottoms, Frank and Alice, were Aurors and Order members, but neither of them came from particularly powerful bloodlines. Harry, on the other hand, was a Potter - an ancient and powerful family, so Voldemort opted to primarily seek to destroy them, seeing young Harry as the most likely threat. The whole Wizarding World knows what happened to the Potters that Halloween night, though lesser known part of the tale is that Death Eaters found Frank and Alice before Voldemort found the Potters, and the couple were tortured into insanity. Neville was raised by his grandmother, and to this day his parents remain in the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungo's.

Meanwhile, the moment that Severus realized that Voldemort meant to target the Potters - meant to target the woman he was still deeply in love with - was the moment that Severus turned away from Voldemort. He came to me, begging for help in protecting the Potters. Unfortunately, the Potters were betrayed by their Secret Keeper, and the rest is history. Severus, of course, was devastated, but agreed with me that one day, Voldemort would return, and when that happened Harry - Lily's surviving son - would need protecting. I gave him employment at Hogwarts, and when Harry came back to the Wizarding world some ten years later, Severus became his unknown protector. Further, as he was during the tail end of the last war, Severus is prepared to maintain a role of spy when Voldemort does rise again. He is, after all, technically still a Death Eater who has every reason to hate Harry; the boy who looks so like his nemesis James, but looks up at him with his mother's eyes. I do hope that Severus will grow to care for Harry. If we're being honest, they need each other.

There is one other thing I need to tell you that I have not shared with the Order. I suspect that what allowed Voldemort to remain alive, albeit weakened greatly, in the aftermath of his killing curse at Harry rebounding upon himself, was because he had already created a Horcrux. A Horcrux is a bit of dark magic in which an intended and unremorseful murder splits a wizard or witch's soul. There's willpower involved in the process, and of course a spell, which allows that bit of soul to be placed in a container of sorts. This container can be a dirty old shoe, a priceless relic, or, in the case of Tom Riddle, be placed in a Diary. While a horcrux exists, its owner cannot truly die. My instincts say that Voldemort would have sought to prove his might by having multiple horcruxes, though I have no proof of this. The Diary that enchanted Ginny Weasley during her first year was in fact a Horcrux, destroyed by pure dumb luck when Harry thought to stab it with a Basilisk fang in an effort to save young Ginny from the connection continuing to drain away her life force. Basilisk venom is one of the few ways I am aware of which can destroy a Horcrux. Fiendfyre is another. I'm sure there are other routes but as of the moment of my writing this, those are the means which I am certain would work. Your job, I suppose, will be to find a way to determine if Voldemort created more than one Horcrux, and if so, how many. If there is a second Horcrux, or Merlin forbid, more than one other, you will have to destroy them before going after Voldemort himself. While I suppose you could destroy Voldemort's physical form and then later go after any horcruxes, I do not believe that would be wise. He will be at his weakest directly after the destruction of a horcrux, so in a perfect world he'll only have made one more, and you time its destruction at the exact time an attack on his person would happen, offering said attacker - presumably Harry - to stand the best chance. Horcruxes aside, Voldemort is a very powerful Wizard. Any edge would be a good one to have.

I wish I could offer you more, but the truth of the matter was that while I always meant to keep the Order semi active after the fall of Voldemort that Halloween, very few of us believed he'd ever rise again, and the optimism of those celebrating was… intoxicating. We all wanted to believe we'd never face a threat like that again, and it wasn't until after the incident in the Chamber of Secrets that I realized that not only would he rise again, but he would also rise quickly. Still, the duties that come with being Headmaster take a fair bit of time, even with Minerva's help, and so I have not made much headway with either research or recruitment. Most in the Order at the present were in the Order the first time, but there weren't many of us left by the time Voldemort attacked Godric's Hollow, and thus numbers are low. If there is one bit of advice I can give as you take on this role, it is that it is imperative that you recruit as many as you can, because you will not be able to count on the Ministry for anything. Those Aurors who are not Order members will refuse the call to battle when it comes to that. Make no mistake, Hermione: it is coming.

Best of luck, my dear girl. And may you live to see happier times.  
Albus Dumbledore

Hermione wanted to be sick. After a few seconds of struggling against the nausea, she did just that, emptying the contents of her stomach in the wastebasket, tears falling in waves as she retched over and over again. She cried for the loss of Albus, and she cried for lack of breath as she continued to heave. Mostly, she cried because of guilt, because the threat the Wizarding world faced was, at least in part, her fault.

In another lifetime, her beautiful little girl, all of four years old at the time, had gotten deathly ill. Hermione, Salazar, Rowena, Godric, and Helga had all searched and searched to find a cure, only to find it and realize that the Potion that would make Lucy well took a month to brew, and Lucy didn't have that long. Had a timeturner been available, they might have just gone back in time thirty days, making time to complete the draft. Sadly, that was not an option.

Then, Hermione had thought of something. She knew that, in the case of magical soulmates, both either lived, or both would die. One could not continue to live if the other passed the veil, and only a magically inflicted wound could kill a bonded soulmate. Age would also kill them, but in the case of mundane illness, like Lucy's situation, the immune system of the bond mate would keep its partner alive. The question that remained was how to artificially make Lucy a soulmate. The answer was quite simple.

Mere hours after presenting the idea to Salazar, going directly to him because she knew Rowena and the others would not approve, no matter if it meant saving Lucy's life, the two of them had split off small parts of their souls each, as not to irreparably damage themselves by having only one person contribute. They then placed those bits into Lucy, and the effect had been instant. Her breathing eased, the blue tinge on her lips faded, and her frail form stopped shivering. The ritual was borderline dark magic, but Hermione hadn't cared. It was her daughter.

All these years later, Hermione realized what she and Salazar had done that night. They had made the first Horcrux. What had given Lucy life had been perverted somewhere along the line and Voldemort was now using the magic to keep himself essentially immortal. Salazar was dead and buried and freed from facing the consequences of their actions, but she didn't have that luxury.

"Hermione?"

Severus' voice came from the direction of her doorway, sounding concerned at the sight of her crumpled on the ground with a wastebasket nestled in her arms. She stared at him, saying nothing as he took in her tear streaked face and the smell of vomit. Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought she should be feeling embarrassed by her current state, but at this moment, she wasn't. She was too consumed by her guilt, the word horcrux echoing in her mind as if it had just been shouted in a great cathedral. She barely registered the fact that he was not leaving, let alone the fact that he was walking towards her. One flick of his wand banished the vomit, another cleaned her face, and a third conjured a glass of water to his hand, which he pressed directly to her lips when he got close enough, kneeling on the ground beside her to do so.

"This was about how I looked after my first raid with the Death Eaters," he commented in low voice. "I came down here to discuss what I imagine Albus had to say about me in that letter he left you, but at the moment I'm a bit more concerned about what he could have said to you that would have left you in this state."

Hermione sipped the water slowly at first, and then greedily as the cool liquid calmed her stomach and in the same stroke, seemed to force the echo in her mind to abate. "Thank you," she croaked, looking up at the man gratefully. It then registered to her that of all people, this was Severus comforting her, which forced a small smile on her lips as she thought about what Albus had said about the man. Further, she realized that if anyone could understand the guilt she was feeling, he could. It was long past time to tell him the truth of everything anyway. He'd earned it. If he'd known that all it would take to gain her trust would be a glass of water and a couple of cleaning charms, she imagined that he'd have done it a good deal sooner.

"What got you in this state?" he asked.

"Guilt," she said. "Something Albus shared with me made me realize that a questionable decision I made in the course of my life with Salazar all those years ago had long lasting consequences."

"What sort of consequences?" Severus inquired.

"I created a spell, something meant to save a life and did just that, but it has been perverted, and is the means Voldemort used which has kept him alive all these years," Hermione replied frankly. "The guilt I'm feeling is… indescribable, especially when I know that given the chance to go back to the day I created that spell and never do so… I'd do it again. I'd save my daughter's life, and say to hell with the fate of the wizarding world. As much as I wish I could claim to love Harry as if he were my flesh and blood son, if I'd known then when I know now, and it was down to a choice, I think I'd still chose Lucy. Perhaps Minerva was right… perhaps I really did fall to darkness during my years in the past. The girl I was before I went there would be ashamed of the woman I've become."

There. She'd said it. She'd handed Severus the key to everything she was. Any moment now, he would put it all together, and so Hermione watched closely for his reaction, meeting his gaze with a defiant stare, daring him to start treating her like the schoolgirl he'd once called insufferable.

"If you're saying you were born in this era, and went to that era, only to come back here… add in your interest in Potter…" His eyes bulged and his jaw dropped. "No. No. Just… no."

Hermione chuckled. "If you are thinking that I was born Hermione Granger, then I'm afraid so."

"No," he said again. "I refuse to believe that. It's ridiculous."

"That it is," she agreed. "But true nonetheless. Come now, Severus, you're a wizard and a smart one at that. Take a moment and wrap your head around the idea."

"Obviously you're still a swot."

"I'm also still an insufferable know-it-all," Hermione smirked, enjoying the groan that came out of his mouth at her remark.

"I am never going to live that down, am I?"

"Nope," she grinned.

"I'm beginning to suspect the universe is conspiring against me," he moaned.

"Don't be such an infant, Severus."

* * *

 **I know many of you were looking forward to Severus finding out the truth. I hope you're happy with his reaction. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	38. Chapter 38

**Sorry for the delay in update, people. I blame a recent obsession with Dean Winchester. Anyway, here's a new chapter. Lots of big stuff happening. Enjoy, and thank you all very much for sticking with me for over 100k words! You are the best!**

* * *

The first staff meeting with Minerva as Headmistress was probably more awkward for her than it was for the rest of the staff. They weren't the one filling tremendously large - if not gaudy - shoes. They weren't the one that everyone was looking to now. They weren't the one who everyone else was looking toward to be strong, all the while still in agony over the loss of their best friend. Still, it wasn't all that bad. It wasn't as though she had never run a staff meeting before. Albus avoided the task as often as possible. Minerva had lost track of the amount of times he'd been _required_ to do something in Diagon Alley on the day a staff meeting was planned. Suspiciously, he'd always returned with a large bag of Lemon Drops.

They were nearly done now, only a few more issues to address. "Remus," Minerva stated, directing her attention to the werewolf. "How would you feel about shifting from Defense to Transfiguration? I cannot feasibly continue teaching it while transitioning into the Head's position. The amount of paperwork I have on a day to day basis is ridiculous, and I'm only a week into this job. I can be available to cover for you directly before and after the full moon, though this would be more of a full time arrangement, which would be far more time consuming than your current position. Obviously, there would be a pay increase…"

"Of course, Minerva," Remus agreed readily. "Though I don't want to leave Professor Slytherin in the lurch, as I'd not be able to cover her Defense Classes in addition to taking over Transfiguration."

Hermione spoke up. "I can certainly manage on my own in the short term, though I do believe it best if we find a replacement assistant for me in the near future."

Minerva nodded, running down a mental list of possible candidates for that position. Her nephew Patrick might be interested. If he really was interested in joining the Order, then putting him at Hogwarts would add one more person she could count on to be aware of the looming threat. The students needed as many advocates as they could get.

"Amelia," Minerva addressed Hermione, forcing herself not to cringe at using _that_ name for her lover. "Feel up to taking over as the Gryffindor Head of House?"

Severus snorted. "Ironic choice - Professor Slytherin, Head of Gryffindor House."

Minerva glared at him. "She _is_ a Gryffindor, whatever her name may be. And has more tenure than Remus, who is the only other Gryffindor on staff presently, myself excluded."

" _She_ is right here," Hermione chastised. "Though did you consider Hagrid?"

"Bylaws require a Head of House to reside in the castle, which Hagrid does not," Minerva replied, nodding curtly at the half-giant. "And regardless, you have more tenure than Hagrid as well."

"Well, I suppose I accept then," she replied with a sigh.

Minerva knew that Hermione didn't really want the position - she already had enough to deal with - but Minerva had to select a Gryffindor and traditionally a Head was the person of that House who had been on staff at Hogwarts the longest. If Minerva chose someone _other_ than Hermione then the Board would ask questions; questions that neither woman was prepared to answer. ' _She's Head of the Order'_ would not be a good reason to give the Ministry of Magic as to why Hermione was much too busy to take on additional responsibilities.

A quiet hiss sounded to Minerva's left. She turned and was surprised to see Severus' jaw set tightly, obviously in pain. Then, she realized he was clenching his right hand over his left forearm, and that could only mean one thing. Severus' eyes met her own, black to emerald, and he offered a sharp nod, confirming that his Dark Mark had indeed activated. Voldemort had risen, and he was calling for his faithful servants.

Hermione obviously noted Severus' condition as well, because she sharply moved to end the staff meeting. "Will that be all, Headmistress?"

"My apologies, everyone," Minerva muttered. "Yes, that is all we need to cover. Dismissed, and thank you all."

She didn't need to ask anyone to remain behind. Filius and Remus both also seemed to have noted Severus' distress, and remained behind with him, Minerva, and Hermione.

"Is he summoning you?" Hermione asked Severus quietly, immediately taking on her role of Head of the Order.

The Potions Master nodded, still grinding his teeth.

"Are you prepared to resume your role as a spy?" she inquired.

Minerva, Remus, and Filius all let out small gasps, each having been totally unaware of the fact that Severus had ever been a double agent. Hermione, Minerva realized, would have gotten that information from Albus' letter, and she was gratified that her lover showed enough trust in her, as well as Remus and Filius, to make them aware of Severus' true allegiance as well.

Severus let out a ragged breath. "Of course," he replied. "I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't, so I might as well bring the Order intel if I'm able."

"Then go, quickly," Hermione said. "And come home safe."

Severus flicked his wand over his teaching robes, transfiguring them into Death Eater garb, silver mask included. Minerva shuddered at the sight, completely unwilling to see her longtime coworker as a figure of darkness. She knew he could be an arse, but for better or worse, Severus was a friend.

The door to the staff room burst open, and Dourif stormed inside, slamming the door behind him with his foot. Minerva frowned as she noticed that he, too, was grasping his arm and gritting in pain. "You're a Death Eater!" she accused, her already existing dislike for the man boiling to the surface.

"No more than I am," Severus defended Leland.

"I'm no spy, though," the grey eyed man said, answering the question in Hermione's eyes. "While the Dark Lord may not know of my betrayal, I cannot spy against him. There are too many in the Inner Circle who already know I ally myself to you, Hermione."

She nodded, understanding, and pulled out her wand. "Here," the Defense Professor said softly, grasping his wrist. "This should help a bit."

Her wand tip glowed briefly as she pressed it into Leland's arm, and his visage relaxed nearly at once. "Thanks," he muttered. "Merlin, did that hurt like a bitch."

Severus grumbled. "Deactivated the Mark?"

Hermione nodded sympathetically, and Minerva understood that she could not ease Severus' pain, or Voldemort would surely know Severus was not his servant any longer. "The sooner you go, the sooner your pain will ease."

"You're assuming he doesn't throw the Cruciatus at me the moment I arrive."

"The Dark Lord can be a bit of an arse like that," Dourif commented with a wry grin.

"I hate you so much, Leland," Severus spat. "Fine, I'm going. I'll report to Headquarters as soon I can."

"Your aunt, of course, has some medical training because of working on the Dragon Reserve with your grandfather," Hermione commented. "I'll alert her of the situation. She can tend to you if you're injured when you arrive, as well as alert me should you find yourself unable to do so. Stay at Prince Manor once you get there. We'll be having an Order meeting by nightfall."

"I'll post alerts on your classroom and office to cancel your classes for today," Minerva added.

Severus offered a final curt nod, and then he was gone, leaving Minerva, Hermione, and the three men all standing there in silence for a time, each knowing what was at stake and how great a risk their friend was taking.

"I'm covering your cottage, Hermione," Leland finally spoke up. "Have you chosen a new Secret Keeper for Headquarters? If not, that needs to be taken care of before Severus returns. He can get into the Manor in any case because he's a Prince, but no one else will be able to."

Minerva nodded in agreement. "I believe you said you had Alastor in mind."

"Yes, he's someone Albus trusted, and he's bound to be loyal to me through the Lex Excetra anyway," Hermione explained to her lover, Dourif, Remus, and Filius. "On the other hand, he is not someone I've had any real dealings with so if the enemy gets wind of my heading the Order they'd not likely guess Alastor to be my Secret Keeper."

"Oh bloody fantastic," Dourif muttered. "Do humor my sense of self preservation and warn me ahead if he'll be attending any given meeting. I'd really rather avoid him."

"What's Moody's problem with you, Leland?" Remus inquired. "Or your problem with him?"

"He thinks I'm a murderer and have gotten away with many crimes for which he thinks I should be in Azkaban," Dourif replied. "And as he can't manage to get the Wizengamot to put me in that hell hole, I'm fairly sure he's settled for the idea of just killing me."

"But Moody is an Auror!" Filius exclaimed, looking shocked.

"He's also a man with a wounded pride," Hermione speculated with a tone of finality. "And regardless of his animosity toward you, Leland, he remains the best candidate to be Secret Keeper. Minerva, would you come with me to the Ministry to talk to him? I lack the rapport you already have with him."

Minerva nodded. "So long as Filius doesn't mind holding down the fort here…"

"Of course not, my friend."

"Remus, after Minerva and I get back, can I trust you to help us pass the Secret down to a few of the other Order members?" Hermione asked.

"Do I get to go see Sirius?" the werewolf asked with a grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Sure, you can cover Padfoot. Now, Min, to the Ministry?"

"Closest Floo is my office," Minerva commented, waving her hand toward the Staff Room door and non-verbally undoing the wards Leland had surreptitiously placed as soon as Severus had left, to protect their privacy as they discussed how to secure Order Headquarters.

The men went their own ways, and the two women made for the Head's office, only pausing to grab two cloaks from Minerva's new, adjacent quarters. A minute later they were in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, and making swiftly for the Auror Department, where they knew Moody would be.

"I don't suppose you're here about the Azkaban breakout," the man in question asked by way of greeting.

"When, and who?" Hermione asked sharply.

"And I would tell _you_ because?" Alastor asked sharply, glancing at Minerva briefly before turning his attention back on the woman he only knew as Amelia Slytherin, Defense Professor who managed to break the curse on that very post. He knew that Albus had trusted her, but precious little else.

"Because I asked you to, and as the Head of the Moody clan you are bound to the Lex Excetra, which requires you to aide one Hermione Slytherin should she ever ask," came the answer. "And I am she."

Alastor stared at her for a moment, magical eye unblinking as he attempted to size her up. "Merlin's saggy testicles," he muttered after a minute. "I was sure my ol' dad was off his rocker when he told me that story forty years ago."

"Not so much," Minerva muttered. "Though that's not technically what we're here for."

"You want me to Secret Keep the Order Headquarters now that Albus went and got himself killed," Moody assumed correctly. "Which by the way, Umbridge? Really? That bitch hasn't been in the field in a couple decades. I can't believe she bested him."

"She didn't," the current Head of Hogwarts said quietly. "He stepped in front of a killing curse to save me."

Alastor's face fell, but he recovered quickly. "Of course he did. In any case, done is done, and so let me tell someone I'm taking my lunch and we'll go get the task done. If you're here in the middle of the day, _and_ there's been a breakout from Azkaban, then I'm willing to bet ol' I'm-Too-Good-For-My-Name has risen again or is about to rise."

"We don't know for sure yet," Hermione replied. "A meeting was called through the Dark Mark. Our agent is there now."

"Don't act like I wasn't around for the first war," the Auror chastised. "Snape, right? Or Dourif? I'd bet that little bastard was a Death Eater too."

"You are going to have to set aside your animosity for Leland…" Hermione started to say in a very bossy tone, as if she were speaking to a child.

Minerva interjected before the two very alpha personalities launched into a debate, or duel, that they had no time for. "Let's go, you two. You can argue later."

Alastor grumbled and cursed under his breath, and Hermione huffed at her lover and crossed her arms before storming out of the office ahead of the other two. The Auror seemed to be taking his sweet time getting his things together, which was very quickly frustrating Minerva.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," she said. "Do hurry along, Moody. The longer you keep her waiting, the more irritated she's going to get."

"Bet she's a demon in the sack," he smirked, eyeing her knowingly. "Especially when she's angry."

"That is none of your business!" Minerva snapped at him, resisting the urge to pull out her wand and hex him.

"Too true," he agreed. "And all's more the shame."

Two hours later, Minerva and Hermione returned to Hogwarts, having done the Warding with Alastor and then gone back to Hogwarts to share it with Remus, only to turn around and each leave with short list of people to go alert of a meeting this evening. An hour after that Hermione received word from Annabeth that Severus had arrived - a little worse for wear but well enough to be chugging down a bottle of Firewhiskey - and directly after curfew, Pomona was directed to mind the castle while Minerva, Filius, Hermione, and Remus stepped out for the meeting. In light of the ever present target on Harry's back, he and Dudley were brought along for a short while, until Minerva returned to Hogwarts, feeling it ill advised to be out of the castle so long in light of the Azkaban breakout Moody had told them about.

Minerva looked around the large, mahogany table in the dining room of Prince Manor, taking in the motley crew who had gathered. The Elves of the Manor had prepared what they called a snack, though Minerva thought she'd seen less food at most lunches, and everyone around the table snacked politely, waiting for the meeting to start. Hermione, as their leader, sat at the head with Severus on her right and Minerva herself at her lover's left. Next to Severus and down the line was Dourif, Remus, Sirius, Filius, and Evelyn Chancellor. On Minerva's side of the table was herself, Alastor, Arthur, Molly, Rosmerta, and finally Annabeth Prince, their hostess.

"Thank you all for coming," Hermione finally said, standing up and bringing the quiet chatter to a halt. "I know some of you can only stay for a short while, so I'll cover the important stuff first, and someone will fill you in on the rest as time allows. Please, when you need to go, just take your leave and don't disrupt…"

Minerva nodded in understanding, and she saw Rosmerta do the same.

"Late this morning," Hermione continued, "there was a breakout at Azkaban Prison, a fact the Ministry is keeping to themselves for the time being. Those who have escaped are Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, and Augustus Rookwood."

Minerva noted the way Arthur pulled Molly close, and wasn't surprised. Dolohov had murdered her brothers, sending him to Azkaban. Lestrange was downright mad, though madness seemed to be her pleasure. She'd tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity, leaving them permanently in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's, and their son, Neville, to be raised by his grandmother, Augusta Longbottom. Rookwood was the least terrifying of the group, having been sentenced for nothing more than spilling Ministry secrets to Voldemort. He might have gotten out years ago if not for the Death Eater branding on his forearm.

"How?" Sirius asked. "The only way I got out was by using my Animagus form to my advantage, and Bella was terrible at Transfiguration so I doubt she managed it…"

"Rookwood barely passed his Transfiguration OWL," Moody, the man's once partner in the Auror office, remarked. Minerva vaguely remembered that Alastor and Augustus had been friends for years, and that it had been the former who turned the latter in at the tail end of the last war.

"Dolohov couldn't be an Animagus either," Dourif added. "At least, he wasn't when I knew him back in the day. His area of expertise was in warding, though he was a damn good duelist."

Minerva was joined by Alastor in casting a glare at Dourif, both highly suspicious of the man. Dourif noticed right away, and rather than ignoring them as any sensible person might, he offered a toothy grin to both of them that Minerva was certain said _I dare you to try something_.

"I'm more interested in why just those three, and why now?" Remus put out, pushing the conversation along.

"Because a fellow Death Eater facilitated the rebirth of Voldemort, and as soon as that had happened, Voldemort called for his three most faithful," Hermione reported heavily.

"Who was the Death Eater?" Arthur inquired.

"And how did they manage?" Severus asked. "We did away with the bones from his first attempt, and Potter is irritatingly safe and sound upstairs."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Severus' remark about Harry, but answered the question just the same. "I suspect that he collected bones of his mother's father for the ritual. And as to the requirement of Harry's blood, Severus, if you'd been paying attention to students other than Slytherins you might have noticed Umbridge making use of Blood Quills."

"Umbridge is a Death Eater?" Filius gasped.

"Indeed," Severus confirmed. "And somehow still gets away with wearing those dreadful pink outfits in his presence."

Dourif laughed outright. "She'll get herself killed in a week."

"I give her three months," the Potions Master bet, offering what might have been mistaken as a small grin to his friend. "She really is useful to him for the time being."

There was a small scuffle of chair leg against the wooden floor as Rosmerta stood to leave, offering a soft smile to the group, though no comment as not to interrupt. Hermione gave her a brief nod and continued. Minerva remained for another twenty minutes as recruiting tactics were discussed, before she, too, stood to go, offering her own smile to the group and getting the same nod from Hermione. Minerva's lover was in her element, leading like this. For as much as the Scottish woman missed Albus, heading the Order was something Hermione had been born to do.

To Minerva's surprise, Harry and Dudley's ears were pressed to the wall right outside the door of the dining room, obviously eavesdropping. Her _Professor McGonagall_ mask was on in an instant, causing the boys to go wide eyed in deep concern for their immediate well-being.

"Uh… fancy seeing you here, Minerva," Dudley offered.

She gave the boy a pass on the cheek, as he'd never had her for a class and couldn't be expected to know better. Harry's elbow jabbed into his cousin's side. _He_ knew better. "If we were at Hogwarts, I'd be docking points right now. You both know better than to listen in to things that do not concern you. If Petunia did not teach you as much, I _know_ that Amelia has."

"You gunna tell her?" Harry asked timidly.

Minerva raised an eyebrow, deliberating the question for a moment. "Not this time, however if I _ever_ catch you eavesdropping again, I will tell her of _both_ events, and I very much doubt you'll have broom privileges any time soon after that."

Both boys gulped, Harry having loved flying since his first year at Hogwarts, and Dudley having taken to a broomstick as soon as his magic had been activated. According to Harry, flying with his cousin had really helped them bond as surrogate brothers, and set aside the unpleasant past they shared.

"Understood?" Minerva asked.

"Yes ma'am," Dudley said quickly.

"Yes, Professor," Harry agreed.

"How about you gentlemen come along with me back to Hogwarts to get you out of temptation's way," she suggested. "I'll leave a note for your godmother so she doesn't worry."

While the term _godmother_ only technically applied to Harry, Hermione treated the boys both the same and so Minerva felt that the term could be used for both of them. In fact, if Dudley was encouraged to think of Hermione in a familial way, rather than thinking himself a burden she'd been saddled with, it was likely to help him continue to become comfortable in his new home.

After arriving back at Hogwarts and checking in with Pomona to let her know she was back in the castle, Minerva and the boys made their way to Hermione's quarters. It was quite late by now, so the Scottish woman ushered them both off to bed at once, while she found a book to read until her paramour returned nearly an hour later.

"Did the rest of the meeting go alright?" she asked, when a ragged looking Hermione stepped into the room.

"Well enough," Hermione replied. "Robert Giles managed to make it for the last ten minutes of the meeting, and I remained to talk to him for a few minutes. By the way, thank you for bringing the boys home."

"What did you and Robert talk about?" Minerva asked, curious about what two of her former protegés might have in common.

"About you, actually," Hermione said, going to her small bar and pouring two glasses of brandy, handing one to Minerva before she took a seat next to her lover. "And your recent promotion."

The Headmistress frowned. "What about it?"

Hermione sighed. "You, Minerva, are a Warding…"

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	39. Chapter 39

**A quick shoutout to acknowledge the life of Carrie Fisher. She was an icon of multiple generations of nerd, and an advocate for mental health, addiction recovery, and many more humanitarian pursuits. She will be missed!**

* * *

Hermione had just finished docking twenty points from a seventh year Gryffindor, who'd sauntered into class forty minutes late and obviously very much hung over. He'd be getting a detention as well, and he was not going to like it. By the look on his face, Hermione suspected that word on how harsh their new Head of House was with detentions had already circulated around Gryffindor Tower. As Slytherin as her daughter Lucy had been, as a child she'd often found trouble, and it had not taken long to figure out that harsher punishments tended to promote better behavior in the future.

"Now, if I could have your attention again…"

Her attempt to get the class back on track was halted again, when a misty raven flew into the room and landed lightly on Hermione's desk. "I hate to be a bother," Rosmerta's voice sprang out of the Patronus' mouth, "but I'm under attack at the Broomsticks. Bloody Death Eater and their damned grudges…not sure how long I can hold him off..."

"Class dismissed!" Hermione snapped. "Homework is a three foot essay on spell classification and development processes. Your end of term project will be developing a spell of your own for Defensive purposes, so you _will_ need to know the process."

As she barked out homework assignment, Hermione grabbed her cloak, wand already in hand. She was the first out the door, sending her own Patronus to to Remus as she bounded down the hall toward the kitchen. "Rosmerta under attack. Please man my Gryffindors till I get back. I let out my class early," she said as she nearly leapt down the flight of stairs toward the dungeons.

The House Elves manning the kitchen seemed surprised when she bounded into their work area, weaving around various tables until she reached a painting of Hogsmeade as it had been some twenty years after Hogwarts had been built and the village had quickly sprouted adjacent. She quickly found the latch on the upper part of the frame, and the painting swung open to reveal a passage behind. Even at a dead run, it still took ten minutes before Hermione reached the basement of the Three Broomsticks.

A lot could happen in fifteen minutes.

As the painting of Hogwarts latched behind Hermione, it was totally silent. Then, she stepped on a bit of broken glass, causing a crunching sound that would alert anyone still here that someone else had arrived.

"Fuck," Hermione heard a strained voice utter from the top of the stairs.

She dashed forward, uncaring if she made further noise, having recognised the sound of Rosmerta's voice, and the pain that laced it. "Damn," Hermione hissed, mind already telling her what her heart couldn't bear to face.

Tears were falling down her cheeks as she knelt beside Rosmerta; crumpled on the ground, broken and bloody, and clinging to life with a stubbornness that Hermione thought was decidedly Gryffindor. "Just stay still. We'll get help," she promised weakly. "Expecto…"

"No," Rosmerta rasped, blood trickling out of her mouth as she spoke. "I know I'm done for. No need for a show. Don't want Emma…" she coughed. "...to see me like this anyway."

"Who did this to you?"

"Dolohov," Rosmerta whispered. "Killed my husband, he did. I testified against him. Warn Molly… she testified too."

Hermione nodded.

"I need to ask you…" Rosmerta pressed on. "You and Minerva. I'd meant to ask next Order meeting but, well… you and Minerva… I want you to bring Emma up. Keep her safe."

The Defense Professor had already been crying, but now she was sobbing outright. "If you're certain that's what you want…"

"No one better I can think of. Head of the Order, and Head of Hogwarts," Rosmerta laughed a little, which led to another coughing fit. "No boys will stand a chance."

Hermione huffed. Part of her knew the joke was meant to make her laugh, but as she looked at her friend's twisted limbs and the way most of her innards were outside of her, she just couldn't do it. "I'll look after her," she promised with a sniffle. "Minerva and I will keep her safe."

"I'm cold, Hermione," the owner of the Three Broomsticks muttered. "And I can't see."

The younger witch's hand clasped Rosmerta's blood covered one, uncaring of the mess. "Just go to sleep," she whispered. "It will all be over."

"Tell Emma I love her."

By the time Hermione had managed to form words through the heaving sobs, she was making a promise to a corpse. "I will."

She didn't know how long she sat there in the pool of now coagulating blood. It might have been minutes, or maybe hours. All she knew is that it was some time before she pulled her hand away from Rosmerta's death grip, and leaned forward to close the wide, unseeing eyes. She must have, at some point, sent a Patronus to St. Mungo's, because the next thing she knew a tall, greying man was familiar green eyes was stepping into the pub, frowning at the sight of her sitting on the floor next to an obviously dead body.

"I'm Mediwizard Malcolm McGonagall," he said. "I presume you're the one who called."

She nodded. "Amelia Slytherin. She… Rosmerta Dobbs… was attacked by Antonin Dolohov. She called me for help, but she only lasted a few minutes after I arrived."

"The Aurors are going to want a statement, but I imagine you'll want to get cleaned up first," he stated. "Where should I send them to find you?"

"I'll be at Hogwarts."

His frown deepened. "You work there?"

"I teach Defense. You're Minerva's brother?"

He sighed. "Yes."

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you again, then."

"Don't count on it," he said curtly. "As my sister and I are not on speaking terms."

"Only time will tell," she mused.

Malcolm offered his hand to help her to her feet. She stood, stiff; a testiment of how long she must have been sitting on the hard floor. It was a reminder of how old she was, and of how much life she'd lived. Life that Rosmerta Dobbs no longer had.

As Hermione did not want to make Malcolm aware of the secret passage, unsure if he could be trusted, she cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and with a curt nod, made her way out the back door and toward the gates of Hogwarts. They opened to her touch when she arrived, as they did to all staff members no matter the time of day or night, and she began the walk up the lane, eventually forcing her numb limbs to take her into the castle and up to the Head's Office. All she could think of was the little girl who was going to have to hear about her mother's brutal death. Just before entering the office, Hermione banished a quickly conjured cancellation notice for her classes. Hermione's priority was going to need to be Emma today.

"Hermione!" Minerva exclaimed in horror at the blood covering her lover. "Are you hurt?"

"Not mine," Hermione whispered. "Rosmerta…"

"Is she okay?" Minerva asked quietly. With the amount of blood on Hermione's person, she had to already know the answer.

"No," the younger witch choked out, tears beginning to fall anew, though this time she did not cry to an empty room. Minerva's arms were wrapped around her at once, and they held each other for a solid ten minutes before they pulled themselves together.

"We'll need to tell Miss Dobbs," Minerva finally said. "She's not in your House, so you don't need to be there if you would prefer…"

"She asked that we take her," Hermione said. "Emma. Rosmerta asked that you and I take in her daughter."

Minerva let out a slow breath. "Well. I guess the boys are getting a new sister."

"We need to get a bigger house," Hermione mused.

"Harry will of course insist we bring his Quidditch Pitch as well."

"Obviously," the younger woman agreed with a small smile. "I'm sure Dudley would be rather upset if we leave it behind as well. And didn't Emma try out for the Ravenclaw team this year?"

Hermione nodded. "She did, though she only managed a reserve position. I suspect she'll try out again next year."

"Likely."

"What class is she in right now?" Hermione asked.

She was surprised when Minerva did not move to consult the roster that recorded each student's class schedule, but rather closed her eyes and took a centering breath. She remained that way for about a minute and a half before she opened her eyes and reported. "She's in Potions. Rolling her eyes at Severus for docking points from a Hufflepuff, who apparently placed muggle chewing gum under his desk."

"The Wardling connection?" Hermione assumed.

Minerva nodded. "I've been doing research on it like you suggested. According to what I've read, I should be able to do that in about ten seconds once I get some practice in."

As much as Hermione wanted to continue discussing such a unique magical phenomenon, she knew that needed to stay focused on the little girl who had just lost her mother. Hell, Hermione was still in her blood stained robes. "I need to change. I also need to expand my quarters to accommodate adding Emma to the family. Can you bring her to my quarters so we have some privacy? Harry will of course still be in classes and I can have Leland take Dudley out somewhere."

"I'll give you a fifteen minute head start," Minerva agreed with a half-hearted smirk. "As I know how long it takes you to shower. And I'll take Filius with me to get Emma."

"Ha ha," Hermione replied, though Minerva wasn't wrong. On a normal day, she took ten minutes at least to shower, and with all this blood… she'd need at least fifteen and she would still need to expand her quarters. In fact, while she was at it, she should add two extra bedrooms so the boys wouldn't have to share anymore, especially if they were likely to be at Hogwarts at least some of the summer this year.

With a chaste kiss to Minerva's lips, Hermione took her leave and headed quickly down to her quarters, remembering to recast the charms to keep her more or less invisible to any students she might pass en route. In any case, the only person she passed on the way to her quarters was Filius, who had a free period and seemed to be making his way toward the Library. He didn't seem to notice her, though given his area of expertise, Hermione suspected it had less to do with her charms usage and more to do with whatever was on his mind at that moment. Too bad Minerva was about to call him away for a duty that nobody in their right mind would want.

Like herself, the Head of Ravenclaw very much got lost in his own little world when thinking about something he was researching. Godric had made a point to pull pranks on her when he caught her with her head in the clouds, and Helga and Salazar were commonly roped into it. Rowena, on the other hand, shared Hermione and Filius' habit of being consumed by research, and the other three learned quickly that if she got wind of their intent to prank, she'd warn Hermione. In turn, when it was Rowena the other three wanted to prank, they wouldn't dare try and get Hermione in on it, as she would chastise first and warn Rowena second. That said, after Lucy was of Hogwarts age, she would often join her father and surrogate uncle and aunt, much to Hermione and Rowena's dismay.

Thoughts of her past and the loss and grief that followed it reminded Hermione of what young Emma was about to be confronted with. She walked into her quarters and went directly to her suite, seeing Dudley and Leland in the living area and not wanting to answer their questions right now. Neither seemed to notice her quietly opening and closing the door. Fresh tears fell as she showered, though the spray of water washed them away at once, somehow giving her the courage to face the thirteen year old.

Cleaned up and fresh robes on, Hermione exited her suite and moved toward where Leland and Dudley were working on spellwork. "Gentlemen," she greeted.

"Thought I saw a blur resembling you come by," Leland commented. "What's going on?"

She addressed Dudley first. "Dudley, would you please go fetch your cloak? Mister Dourif is going to take you out for a bit."

"I am?" Leland asked, small smirk on his lips. "Fancy that. Last to know."

Hermione forced a smile, not speaking till Dudley was out of earshot. "Rosmerta Dobbs was killed a short while ago. She indicated to me that it was her wish that Minerva and I assume the role of guardians to her daughter Emma. I need you two out so I can remodel our quarters. I'll speak to Dudley and Harry about it later. Minerva should be en route by now to fetch Emma from her Potions class and bring her here. So if you could keep Dudley out of here for at least an hour, I'd be grateful."

His good humor was gone. "Of course," came the quick agreement. "Just send me a Patronus when we can come back - take all the time you need. Mind if I take him into Diagon Alley? He's been itching to check it out…"

Hermione glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. "If you wait fifteen minutes to leave, when Severus' last class of the day is done and take him with you, then a trip to London is fine. He mentioned needing to get some things when I saw him yesterday, and I'd feel better with two wands looking out for him if you're leaving the safety of Hogwarts. Dudley is not a student, so you won't need to clear it with Minerva, though have Severus get Vector to watch Slytherin House while he's gone, as Minerva will be here with me so she can't."

"Consider it done."

"So," Dudley said, shuffling back out of the room he shared with Harry and obviously trying to figure out how to fasten the cloak that Hermione had procured for him. "Where are we off to, sir?"

"I was thinking about going to Diagon Alley," Leland said casually.

Dudley's eyes snapped up. "YES!"

With a hurried farewell from Dudley, and a whispered _good luck_ from Leland, Hermione found herself alone in her quarters for the first time in ages. Though Harry was in the Gryffindor dorms, Dudley was here with her every evening, and when she popped by in the afternoons for anything, Leland and Dudley were usually studying. The boy really had come a long way from the child who couldn't find his tongue in the aftermath of his mother's death. Beyond excelling magically under Leland's tutelage, the man also had Dudley working on his physical fitness. Gone was the overweight bully that Harry had once told her about. Hermione only hoped that Emma would adjust to living under her guardianship as well as the boys had. Good lord, how had she gone from being mother to one, Lucy, to being mother of _five_?

Knowing that Minerva and Emma should be here soon, Hermione set to rearranging her quarters. Other than the Head and Deputy of any given time, Hermione was probably the only person who could shift the inner workings of Hogwarts like this, and in so little time. What few people understood was that the Room of Requirement was not an entity on its own, but rather the magical core of the entire castle. The magic that allowed staircases to move and rooms to enlarge or shift branched outward from the Room of Requirement. It had been why Hermione and Helga had constructed the Room of Requirement in the first place - to bring magic to the castle that previously, had been nothing but another Scottish Castle.

Ten minutes later, Hermione had made the living area smaller, the kitchen a bit bigger, taken out the dining room in favor of a table suited for six in the kitchen, and added two more bedrooms. The new bedrooms were furnished via some transfiguration, and a few well placed charms separated Dudley and Harry's personal belongings. Just before a knock at her door alerted her that Minerva and Emma had arrived, Hermione also enlarged the second bathroom, as all three teenagers would be sharing it. Her own master bathroom was shrunk slightly to accommodate.

"Come in," she said softly to Minerva, Filius, and the young Ravenclaw she had in tow.

Minerva gave her a questioning look, obviously deeming the changes to her quarters to be excessive. Hermione shrugged. Later, when she and Minerva got to the master bedroom, she'd no longer think the changes too much. The bigger bed and the direct access to her personal library would warm her over.

"What's going on?" Emma asked, looking concerned. Hermione wondered if a part of her already knew her mother was dead, or if she was concerned she'd been caught at some infraction.

"Let's have a seat, Emma," Minerva suggested, waving her hand toward the sofa and loveseat that were situated in front of the fireplace.

The girl's eyes widened. "Where's my mum?" she asked softly. "Please tell me…"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry, Emma. She was attacked by a Death Eater a few hours ago. She didn't make it."

The young Ravenclaw collapsed into Fillius' arms, serving to remind Hermione just how much care the half-goblin had for his students. As the teenager kneeled on the ground, Filius' short but strong arms wrapped tightly around her. Minerva moved over to rub the girl's back as she sobbed, her own tears falling silently as she mourned for her long time friend.

While Hermione, too, was broken hearted at the loss, she'd known Rosmerta for only a couple of years. That said, she did know how it felt to feel totally alone in the world, just as Emma must feel right now. She moved toward the huddle, and stroked the teenager's blonde hair - curly and wild just like her mother's. "I know it hurts," she whispered. "But you're not alone. Your mother asked Minerva and me to look after you. When school is not in session, you'll be here with myself and my wards, Harry and Dudley. We can't replace your mum, nobody can, but we will be here for you."

Emma couldn't find words to express what she was feeling at the moment, though she let go of Filius with one arm and pulled Hermione into the group hug. Momentum pushed Hermione flush against Filius, who turned to glance at her incoming body, and ended up getting his face pressed into Hermione's breast. He pulled back and looked at Hermione, blush obvious on his cheeks. She raised an eyebrow and smirked at him, before they both returned their attention to Emma.

The three Professors consoled Emma as best they could, eventually showing her to her room. Minerva suggested she take a nap, and Filius had a vial of Dreamless Sleep on hand, obviously anticipating its need. Ten minutes later, the Ravenclaw was fast asleep and would be for at least the next four hours until the potion wore off.

Filius agreed to stay with Emma, especially after Hermione showed him to her office, where there was a wide array of books on Charms that had been written by Helga and Rowena, which Hermione had brought up from the Caverns. The Defense Professor was fairly sure that he'd be by to _visit_ more frequently, now that he knew what books she had here.

Meanwhile, Minerva called an emergency staff meeting directly before dinner. Hermione sent her Patronus to Leland, Dudley, and Severus to get them back to the castle, per Severus needing to attend the meeting. Leland and Dudley went back to Hermione's quarters, using Dudley's new room as a place to continue their studying until it was time for dinner.

Once the whole of the staff were present, Minerva called for attention. "A few hours ago," she began. "Rosmerta Dobbs was killed by the known Death Eater, Antonin Dolohov."

Gasps came from most of the staff, and a few were even shedding tears. Every single one of them had known Rosmerta for years, both during the course of being staffed here at Hogwarts, and in some cases like Remus, during the course of their own educations. Hermione made a mental note to let Sirius know what had happened, and find a way he could safely attend the funeral. He'd been rather close to the woman during his years here as a student. According to Rosmerta, the Black heir had proposed marriage to her no less than six times during the last two years of his education. She had admitted, though he had no idea, that had he simply asked her out on a date after he'd graduated, she'd likely have agreed.

"If Death Eaters are getting as far as Hogsmeade," Remus mused, "we really ought to up the security here."

"I was thinking of starting a Defense Club for students fifth year and above. I would never ask any of them to fight, of course, but I'd feel better if the older students were more prepared to defend themselves, and assist in the defense of younger ones."

"That's a good idea," Minerva agreed. "Make it happen. Use whatever resources you need, staff included."

"I think it's prudent we get a step on replacing my position as Amelia's assistant for Defense," Remus interjected.

"I had been meaning to suggest my nephew, Patrick," Minerva said.

Hermione briefly thought about _Malcolm_ McGonagall, who she'd briefly met this morning. If her memory served, Patrick was his son. "Would he be agreeable to it?" she asked. "Given his father's opinion of…"

Minerva nodded, knowing what she was talking about. "He approached me some weeks ago about speaking to Albus - obviously before his passing - about some part time work _outside_ of Hogwarts. I do believe both could be accomplished in one stroke."

Hermione easily read between the lines. "I'll speak to him as soon as I can."

"Now," Minerva said, returning her attention to the group as a whole, "Heads of House, I think it would be better received to learn of Rosmerta's passing if done in smaller groups, so I am delaying supper for an hour to allow for this. Please gather each of your students where you see fit. The rest of you, just be aware that Rosmerta was well known and well liked, so give the students some grace this week if you see their classwork slipping. All of us will be impacted by this loss."

There was a collective series of nods and verbal agreements.

"Very good. Dismissed."

Hermione spoke to her Gryffindors after popping in to check on the still sleeping Emma, and relayed Minerva's orders to Filius. Leland promised to alert her if Emma woke, and so she went down to dinner, before which she made an announcement to the whole of the student body, that anyone fifth year or above was to remain behind after the meal concluded for information about a forming Defense Club.

She watched as some students filed out, others lingering behind. In the end, the remaining students were composed of fourteen Gryffindors, nine Ravenclaws, ten Hufflepuffs, and eight Slytherins. When they all had eyes on her, she spoke. "The Ministry of Magic," Hermione said, eyeing each of the students who had signed up, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is likely that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so – either because they will not believe that there is a very real and growing threat, or because they think I should not tell you, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Rosmerta Dobbs died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of her own, is an insult to her memory. Rosmerta was a friend to every single person who walked into the Three Broomsticks, and she was _murdered_ by an agent of Voldemort. You are here today to learn how to save yourself, and those you care for, if Merlin forbid any of you find your way into the line of fire. You're here to honor Rosmerta's memory."

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	40. Chapter 40

**No, your eyes do not deceive you! Two Telling Time Chapters in less than a week! Hope you enjoy! This one was fun to write, as it allowed me to expand on some characters I'd not done much with up to this point.**

* * *

In the wake of Rosmerta's death, Hermione had requested that her three wards be allowed to remain in her quarters as long as they desired, rather than the dorms. Minerva had readily agreed. Dudley, of course, was there all the time in any case, and Emma was the most profoundly impacted by the loss of her mother. Minerva had expected Harry to return to Gryffindor Tower within a few days, and had been surprised to find that nearly two weeks later, he was still occupying his bedroom in his guardian's quarters along with his surrogate brother and sister.

Harry seemed intent to remain as close to Hermione as possible, and it had taken Minerva nearly a week to realize that while he'd not known Rosmerta very well, all the boy could think about was how easily it could have been his godmother that had been butchered in Hogsmeade that day. Ron Weasley was also seen in Hermione's quarters during non class hours. More than once Minerva had caught him and Harry snogging in the latter's bedroom. Privacy, she remembered, was not something that was afforded in Gryffindor Tower.

As with most evenings, Minerva had made her way down to Hermione's quarters in time for the evening snack that the Defense Professor always offered her wards at about nine. The adults would have tea and biscuits, though the children usually favored hot cocoa to drink before they headed off to bed an hour later. It was family time, and it was wonderful to behold. The boys, who'd once been at odds by default, got along better than most siblings now, and Emma seemed to be adjusting well, engaging in playful banter with her new brothers, though her smiles never quite reached her eyes. In time, Minerva expected the sadness that plagued the young Ravenclaw would fade. That was the nature of the mourning process.

Just after ten, Hermione and Minerva were enjoying a second cup of tea, conversing quietly as the three teenagers drifted off to sleep. "Is Severus still out of the castle?" Minerva inquired, remembering he'd answered a summons from Voldemort right after dinner in the Great Hall.

"Yes," Hermione replied. "He usually doesn't take this long, but I'm not worried yet. Severus is a resourceful man, though Merlin knows I won't be able to sleep until I know he's home, safe and sound."

Minerva chuckled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd grown to fancy him."

"Care for, absolutely," Hermione agreed. "Though fancy? I'm afraid he's shite out of luck if he is thinking along those lines, as I am quite positively taken. And gladly so."

"Good to know," the Scottish woman said crisply. Gods, how she loved Hermione.

"How are things going with the Wardling research?" the younger witch inquired after a brief silence. "How are you adjusting?"

Minerva sighed. "Merlin knows it was a surprise. When you told me that night, I was certain for the first half of the conversation that you were playing an elaborate prank on me, in an effort to distract me from losing Albus. It wasn't until you handed me that pile of books that I began taking you seriously."

Hermione snickered. "Because books are empirical evidence in their own right. Really Minerva, it took you two minutes to believe I was who I told you I was when I arrived back at Hogwarts, but nearly thirty to believe that you had a birthright that was finally manifesting?"

"Well, I've always been the sort to believe _it will never happen to me_ ," Minerva sighed. "Though oddly, those sorts of things often do happen to me, and so you'd think I'd be used to it by now."

Whatever Hermione might have said next was interrupted by the appearance of the Ravenclaw Ghost, Helena. At first, Minerva suspected there was something amiss with Filius' house, and that Helena had been sent to fetch the Headmistress, but Helena did not address her. Instead, she quickly glided over to Hermione, speaking urgently. "Harry is having an awful nightmare. He's thrashing and screaming. I tried to wake him by calling out, to no avail."

Hermione frowned. "I don't hear anything," she said, eyeing Harry's bedroom door.

Helena rolled her eyes. "He's a wizard, Mother. And a teenage one at that. Don't you think he's long since mastered silencing charms?"

Hermione blushed, thinking about what sort of activity Harry, and Dudley for that matter, might want extra privacy for. Minerva, of course, was thinking the same, though she was more focused on the fact that the daughter of Hermione's former lover had addressed her by a parental honorific. Setting aside all questions related to _that_ Minerva followed Helena and Hermione into Harry's bedroom.

"Harry, wake up!" Hermione shouted, shaking the boy roughly.

He did, a few seconds later, tears on his face and eyes full of fear. "He's got Snape! Voldemort's got Professor Snape!" Harry exclaimed as soon as he found Hermione. "They're torturing him."

In Harry's panic, he slipped into Parseltongue, and Hermione followed suit to continue conversing with him. The silencing charm must have broken when Harry awoke, as Minerva glanced behind her upon hearing soft footfalls, and saw both Dudley and Emma looking concerned. Knowing that Hermione was doing what needed to be done for Harry, Minerva turned her attention to the other two children.

"Come," she said. "Let's get you some tea."

Tea, of course, was always the answer when one had no idea what to do.

Dudley and Emma followed her out to the kitchen, robes wrapped tightly around them as the silently sat down at the table. Nobody spoke for a few minutes, all listening intently to the hissing sounds in the nearby room, despite the fact that none of them could understand the language. They were all concerned for Harry.

"Is he alright?" Dudley finally asked quietly. "I can't understand what he's saying… but I know the fear in his voice. Whatever it is, he's terrified."

Emma shivered, and it wasn't because she was cold. She, like Harry, suffered nightmares. Dudley did as well, though less frequently. Further, he was the best at hiding them, though Minerva thought that was likely because he'd been dealing with them the longest. Like Emma was haunted by her mother's death, Dudley was haunted by the death of his own mother. Harry had only recently begun having nightmares; directly after Voldemort's rebirth.

Minerva supposed it was no surprise that the three teens connected so quickly. They had all faced tremendous loss in their young lives, by very violent means. Emma and Dudley had been older, and thus remembered their respective mothers, though Emma and Harry shared the bond of having both parents gone. Harry and Dudley had a shared background of abuse at the hands of Vernon Dursley.

Minerva had just poured three cups of tea when Hermione came out of the bedroom, Harry following behind. She offered what had been meant to be her cup to Harry, and followed Hermione into the master bedroom to speak privately.

"What's going on?" she asked, watching her lover quickly discard her night things and dress in a set of robes Minerva had never seen her wear.

"Battle robes," Hermione explained, catching the curious look. "Harry had a vision, not a dream. Severus has been discovered as a spy, and Harry was witnessing his torture. Harry was able to give me enough detail to know what we're walking into, and Severus showed me the memory of the apparition point closest to the base, so finding it shouldn't be difficult. If we move quickly, we may be able to save our Potions master."

"I'll stay with the children," Minerva said, knowing the request was all but on the tip of Hermione's tongue already. "Who are you taking with you?"

"I already sent word to Remus, Sirius, Leland, and Robert. They're meeting me in Hogsmeade," Hermione replied. "I also alerted Annabeth, who is heading to St. Mungo's to arrange for a discreet Healer to be brought to Headquarters. We can't take Severus there while he still bears the Mark."

Minerva nodded. "Bring him home safe."

"Take care of the children," the younger witch requested, before pressing a passionate kiss to Minerva's lips. Minerva, of course, responded with vigor. They both knew that going into Voldemort's stronghold was a major risk, just as they both knew they couldn't leave Severus to die when there was still a chance he could be rescued.

"You better come back to me," Minerva said, breathless.

Hermione smiled softly at her lover, trying to convoy all of her hopes for their future in one look, along with assurances that nothing on heaven or earth could keep her from finding her way back. It was an unspoken promise, and it was all that needed to be said. Or rather, not said, but _felt_.

Minerva watched, silent, as Hermione gave each teenager a hug, and pressed a long kiss to each of their foreheads. It was a testament of her ability to inspire love and loyalty in the fact than none of the children, new-to-the-family Emma included, seemed bothered by the affection. Rather, when Hermione walked out the door, they stared after her for a good long minute before the silence became awkward, and Minerva cleared her throat to get their attention.

"I know there will be no convincing you all to go back to bed…" she began.

"Not bloody likely," Harry said.

"Not a chance," Dudley agreed.

"I'm inclined to agree with them," Emma said with a shrug. "Though it's a possibility that the Gryffindor stubbornness is simply rubbing off on me."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "I was about to suggest we all get to know one another a bit better while we await Amelia's return. As while I know Harry quite well at this point, and Dudley a fair bit, I know very little of you, Emma. In turn, you don't know much about any of us, aside from our… stubborn Gryffindor nature."

Emma could tell her tone was teasing, not rebuking, and she blushed a bit. "That sounds like a good idea," the blonde girl said. "I mean, I should know a bit more about you lot if I'm going to spend the next five years with you."

"Turning seventeen or graduating from Hogwarts, won't make you any less family," Harry said kindly. "Just saying."

Dudley nodded vigorously, obviously in complete agreement. For Minerva's part, she just smiled at Harry, glad he'd thought to assure his new little sister that her place with them was not limited to her minority.

The girl smiled brightly - probably the first real smile since she'd been told of her mother's death - and launched into Harry's arms. "Thanks Harry!"

"Well," he said awkwardly. "I thought it was a given."

Dudley was next to be tackled by the petite Ravenclaw. "Thanks Dudley," she muttered.

"Hey, we've all gotten the rough end of things," he muttered, hugging her back. "We've got to stick together, right?"

Emma turned to face Minerva, obviously intent on tackling her next, though she paused upon realizing that she was looking at the Headmistress of Hogwarts - or at least, that's what Minerva supposed was causing her to hesitate. She remembered when she'd been young, and how she never would have _dreamed_ of hugging Headmaster Dippet. "Emma," she said softly. "I'd like to be more than Headmistress to you."

The girl looked skeptical. "I've heard Harry and Dudley calling you _Minerva_. Is that what I'm to call you?"

"You are certainly welcome to."

Finally, Emma's reservations were gone, and Minerva grunted as the small but rather sturdy body careened into her. That was followed by undignified squeak as she lost her balance and toppled to the ground, Emma falling on top of her.

"Oops," Emma said, giggling.

Minerva had managed to begin the process of getting up, when she heard Harry let out a whoop and call, "DOGPILE!" at which point she had all of three seconds before a laughing Harry and Dudley were both on the ground as well, joining the mass of limbs already on the floor in the middle of the living room. She wasn't certain who started it, but the next thing she knew, someone had discovered Harry was ticklish, and he was laughing uncontrollably as Dudley and Emma attempted to find more spots. A few seconds after that, Minerva let out a sigh, and opted to join the fun. Some fifteen minutes later all four of them were laying on the ground, out of breath from laughing, sides sore and all sense of personal space damned.

She had Harry in the crook of her left arm, Emma in the crook of her right arm, and Dudley's head laying between her neck and her left shoulder. Certain they looked rather ridiculous and not really wanting to explain _this_ to Hermione, she said the first thing that came to mind. "Tea, anyone?"

All three teens agreed that sounded good, though at Dudley's prompting they broke out a tin of Ginger Newts, munching on them and sipping tea as they talked about everything from favorite color to what memory each teen thought might fuel their patronus.

Harry, of course, already knew how to cast it, and Emma and Dudley made him to promise to teach them sometime. Minerva made a mental note to suggest to Hermione that the _fifth years and above_ for the Defense Club be bent for Emma, given that anything the boys learned they were likely to teach their new sister anyway. Minerva wouldn't even call it favoritism, but rather an issue of fact where technically, Dolohov could seek to hurt Emma in continued retribution for his incarceration. If Hermione was disinclined to have Emma joining the group as a whole, Minerva thought she could at least convince her to make time to privately teach the girl advanced Defense technique. As willing as she knew Harry and Dudley would be to help, she did not want to put that responsibility on their shoulders, and if Merlin forbid something did happen to Emma, the boys would likely blame themselves for not preparing her well enough, were they the ones doing the teaching.

It was nearly midnight when Hermione finally came in. The teens had been dozing on the sofa, and Hermione woke them just enough to assure the three that she was just fine, and report that Severus, while injured, would recover. Then, she sent them all to their rooms, following Emma first to tuck her in, and then stopping in each of the boys' rooms to do the same.

"All settled?" Minerva asked from the sofa when Hermione came back to the living room.

"Yes."

"How's Severus?"

Hermione sighed. "Annabeth had a mediwitch standing by when we arrived with him back at Prince Manor - your sister-in-law, interestingly. Jacqueline is quite talented."

Minerva nodded, having much the same opinion of Malcolm's wife. For all the disagreements between she, her brother, and her brother's wife, the Scottish woman would never debate that the pair were both good at what they did for a living.

Hermione continued. "We arrived without anyone being alerted. Remus and Sirius maintained our exit, while Robert, Leland, and I went in for Severus. While Harry's description gave me a good idea of where we needed to head, it wasn't necessary. We only needed to follow the screaming."

She shuddered before going on. "I never want to hear the sound of Severus screaming again. It's one thing to hear a stranger in that kind of pain, but to hear a friend being tortured… it's rather rattling."

"I know," Minerva said softly, remembering the two wars she'd been involved in prior to the one that was upon them. She'd been there when Alastor had lost his leg; a well aimed slicing hex had taken it off in an instant, and Alastor hadn't even realized it was more than an abrasion until he'd tried to take that next step, and the lower half of his leg had remained stuck in the mud, just behind where he fell forward into even more of the wet, dirty mixture. She'd remember his subsequent screams till the day she died.

"Voldemort, luckily, was not there. I _wish_ Dolohov had been there so I could have come home and told Emma that she could rest easy, but no such luck," Hermione went on. "There were four wizards there, all taking turns at various forms of torture, but none of us recognized them. We opted to disable, not kill, as without knowing who they were, we had no idea how to predict if killing them would do more harm than good. We'll work that much out later - once we had Severus back at Headquarters, Sirius, Remus, Leland, and Robert went back to capture them. Annabeth is kindly allowing us use of her dungeons."

"Did Severus say what gave him away?" Minerva asked.

"He won't be conscious for several days at least. Jacquline put him in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in his brain to go down. It'll be weeks before he's back to work, though she assured me that he will wake up, he will recover, and he will be the same snarky bastard he was before."

Minerva sighed. "I'll need to find someone to cover Severus' classes. Have you any idea how hard it is to find a substitute Potions master?"

"Why not ask Irma?" Hermione asked.

"Irma?"

"Pince," Hermione clarified. "She's got a Potions Mastery and she's already here at Hogwarts. I'm sure she wouldn't mind just filling in."

"The Librarian? She doesn't have a Potions Mastery," Minerva argued with a frown. "She was a Mediwitch before she came here."

"She went for a double mastery. Medicine and Potions," the younger woman countered. "She told me herself, beginning of my third year here. She caught me using the time turner and laughed. Surprised the hell out of me, as I'd only ever heard her speak a few words at a time, and always ever so sternly. She'd had a time turner herself at one point, and warned me that no amount of time would change that I'd likely burn myself out if I wasn't careful."

"You're kidding!" Minerva exclaimed, stunned that she'd worked with the woman for all these years, and had never known she held a second Mastery. "I'll say this for sure, I'm going to have to take time to go over all the staff files now. Who knows what else I don't know about!"

Hermione sighed. "All that settled, it's been a long night. Shall we go to bed?"

"Actually, one last thing, my dear," Minerva said, remembering another area she seemed to be lacking in information.

"What?" Hermione asked, stifling a yawn.

"Why did the Ghost of Ravenclaw Tower address you as _Mother_ earlier?" she inquired, trying not to sound like she was making accusations. Hermione was not obligated to tell her every little thing, though she was admittedly a bit upset, as if what Rowena had implied was true, it was no small thing that Hermione had been keeping from her.

Hermione blinked, looking confused for a moment. "Minerva, I am so sorry, I thought I'd already told you. Things have been so busy… I've not been keeping it from you intentionally."

The Scottish witch nodded, understanding. "How about you fill me in. I don't need details - I know you're tired - but true to my animagus nature the curiosity is killing me."

"According to Helena, shortly before I was planning to return here, Rowena discovered that she had fallen pregnant, and that the child was mine. She didn't want to make it harder on me that it already was… it killed me to leave Lucy… so she opted to keep it a secret," Hermione whispered. "Helena chose to become a ghost because she knew that one day she'd be able to meet _me_ , not because of the Baron or any other reason that has been speculated. I didn't find out until right after last Christmas. Bugger, that was ages ago. I could have sworn I'd told you."

Minerva chuckled. "It's alright, Hermione. I know now, and I appreciate learning that it wasn't your intent to keep it from me."

Hermione let out a ragged breath, and leaned into Minerva's arms. "Okay. That sorted, _now_ can we go to bed? I'm completely knackered."

Minerva kissed her hair, breathing in the scent. "Let's go, love."

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	41. Chapter 41

**Extra long chapter for you lot! Already working on the chapter that follows this, so it shouldn't be too long a wait for you guys. Meanwhile, enjoy. :)**

* * *

"You're late," Minerva said as Hermione whisked into her quarters. "We were to meet Patrick ten minutes ago."

"I apologize," Hermione said. "I was talking to Emma about the Broomsticks. It took longer than I anticipated."

In the wake of Rosmerta's death, Hermione and Minerva had discussed what to do about their friend's place of business. In Albus' will, he'd made the property a part of the Hogwarts boundaries, which protected it from Ministry interference. Now, young Emma was all that was left of Rosmerta's family, and Minerva felt that what became of her mother's establishment should be up to the girl. So, Hermione had sat down with Emma and offered her two choices.

The first option was to sell that part of the Hogwarts estate, and have the profits be put in an account for Emma, which would accrue interest between selling and the girl's coming of age. It, along with the Ministry stipend that she got from the Ministry for the death of each of her parents would evolve into a nice nest egg for Emma to do with as she wished once she was an adult.

The second option was to hire someone to manage the inn for a contracted period which would end when Emma came of age. Part of the profits would go to the manager, and part would go into Emma's Gringotts account alongside the Ministry stipend. When the contract expired, Emma could decide if she would sell at that point or extend the contract.

"What did Emma decide?"

"She wants to go with hiring a manager for the time being," Hermione reported. "She thinks, and I agree, that is the best way to keep her options open. She has not decided if she wants to pursue a Mastery after graduating or not, and wants to have the Broomsticks available for her to take over should she decide not to go for higher education. Meanwhile, the profits and her Ministry stipend should still provide her enough of a nest egg to start whatever life she wants."

Hermione paused, and Minerva looked at her questioningly.

"She wants it to be included in the contract for the manager that should something happen to her prior to her reaching majority that the ownership and profits be turned over to Hagrid," Hermione said. "She believes that it's what Rosmerta would have wanted - turning the Three Broomsticks over to someone who'd keep the inn up and running in memory of the Dobbs family. He's been a customer since Rosmerta's mum was still running it."

"It's smart of her to consider such things," the Scottish woman said after brief consideration.

"It is," the other witch said. "However I hate that someone so young has faced so much death that it's in the forefront of her mind. It's something that I should have brought up. Not something she…"

Minerva pulled her lover into her arms. "I know, love. I know."

"I'll have Hagrid written into the contract," the younger woman sniffled. "But I'll be god damned if I let something happen to that little girl."

"We'll keep her safe. We promised Rosmerta, after all."

Hermione sniffled a bit more before she let go of Minerva and made her way to the desk, pulling out a box of tissues and blowing her nose. "Shall we go meet Patrick?

The other woman nodded, not feeling the need to say anything. She followed her beloved Defense Professor down to where her nephew had taken up residence, and knocked on the door.

"I expected you two nearly half hour ago," he said by way of greeting. "You're late."

"A woman is never late," Minerva replied in her best _teacher_ voice. "Nor is she early. She arrives precisely when she means to."

Hermione cast her a grateful smile, chuckling a bit at the paraphrased line from one of her favorite muggle novels. "Quite," she agreed.

"Duly noted," Patrick said. "Come in, ladies. Tea should still be hot."

The three Hogwarts Professors made their way to the seating around the fireplace, which was crackling merrily and offered the three much needed warmth. The corridors wore a prominent chill in the late December air, causing student and staff alike to wear heavy cloaks as they went from place to place. Of course, the castle was mostly bereft of students now, most of them having gotten on the train this morning, to be picked up at King's Cross by their families. Harry, Dudley, and Emma, of course, would remain in the castle for Christmas.

Hermione glaced at their host, Patrick McGonagall. As much as she wanted to believe that Minerva's nephew could be trusted with the entire truth of who she was, it was always a great risk to whisper the name _Granger_. For now, at least, all he needed to know was what the rest of the Order knew - that she was a woman out of time.

"Patrick," Hermione started. "First, I want to thank you for agreeing to come on board as the secondary Defense Professor. It's quite a load off my plate."

"Typically," Minerva put in, "the hours of an assistant Professor are very much set in stone, but as I explained to you when you agreed to take the position, with Professor Slytherin being Head of the Order, you may have to fill in for some of her classes in addition to your handling of the first through third year students, when Order business calls her away."

Patrick nodded, and Hermione could see the questions dancing in his eyes - eyes he shared with his aunt - as to what this conversation was really about. He could knew a meeting with both of them meant they were here about something important, and the fact they they seemed to be easing their way into the topic told him that whatever it was, it was big. Still, he waited patiently for the other shoe to drop.

"Patrick," Hermione said crisply, ready to get to the point. "I am not who the general public believe me to be. On record, I am Amelia Slytherin - a long lost relation of the founding family of that surname. In reality, I came by my name through my marriage to the one and only Salazar Slytherin."

"But he's been dead for hundreds of years," Patrick blurted, eyes wide. "So how can that even be?"

"How is not the issue, nor is it an explanation I am prepared to give you at the present," Hermione replied. "All that really matters is that it is a truth that every Order member is aware of, and I wanted to share that information with you prior to the meeting this evening."

Patrick glanced over to his aunt, blinking slowly as his brain digested the ramifications of what Hermione was saying. " _The_ Salazar Slytherin?" he asked the older McGonagall.

Minerva chuckled. "Well, you're taking it better than I did."

"She accused me of being a Dark Witch," Hermione said, fondly remembering the day in question. "Despite the fact that I am very much a Gryffindor just like yourselves."

"How did you know I was in Gryffindor?" Patrick asked, frowning.

"I don't believe there's ever been a McGonagall in any other House," Hermione chuckled. "The McGonagall around back during the early years of this school was in Gryffindor, and his son was sorted there years later."

"You never told me that," Minerva said, interest piqued.

"Eion McGonagall was a thorn in my side," Hermione commented. "I try my very best to forget him, to be honest."

"What was he like?" Patrick asked eagerly, obviously now very much on board with the idea that Hermione had been around all those years ago.

The Defense Professor smirked. "Let's just say that you'd be hard pressed to find a room, or closet, in this castle he was not caught snogging some girl in."

Patrick and Minerva both blushed on behalf of their forebearer. Patrick, who at present was occupying the Head Boy's dorms for Gryffindor House - this year's Head Boy being a Ravenclaw - glanced around the room with an obvious question on his mind. "Err…" he said.

Hermione laughed. "Yes, Eion was Head Boy in his time, yes he occupied these very rooms, and I actually caught him snogging a bloke in here once."

At the look of horror on Patrick's face in response to that tidbit, Minerva joined in Hermione's laughter.

Just then, a House Elf appeared before them, though it was not one that Hermione recognized as a Hogwarts Elf. That said, she _did_ recognize it. "Enwyn!"

Narcissa Malfoy's personal Elf beamed at being recognized. "Madam Slytherin," Enwyn greeted. "Mistress Cissa bade Enwyn to deliver this missive to you. She's believing that Owl post is not secure enoughs to be sending sensitive informations through."

Hermione took the presented parchment and nodded. "Did she say it was urgent?"

Enwyn shook her head. "Not that she's be saying."

"Thank you, Enwyn," Hermione said, dismissing the Elf.

As soon as Narcissa's servant had departed, Hermione opened the parchment, and quickly read what was written. Minerva and Patrick waited silently.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I know that you said you did not wish to learn of Lucy's descendants, only her fate, but in the course of my continued research I found something that you may find of interest. I discovered that Morfin Gaunt did indeed have a Squib sister - a girl called Merope - though I'm not honestly sure that she was a Squib at all. The accounts I've discovered report that she brewed and used a love potion on a muggle man who lived near the Gaunt residence, and that the two were wed and did indeed have a child together. As the reports go, for whatever reason Merope's husband eventually was freed from the clutches of the Potion, and left her, despite the fact that she was by then pregnant with his child. Merope carried the child to term, and eventually gave birth to the babe at Wool's Orphanage in London. She died shortly thereafter, and her remains were buried in a nearby cemetery. Of course, the child is by now grown, but likely has no idea of his or her roots. If the child was magical, they likely came to Hogwarts under the impression they were muggleborn. Perhaps this is my pureblood thinking, but if I knew there was a Black or a Malfoy out there who had no idea from what noble lineage they came, I'd want to reclaim them, despite being mixed blood. Do what you will with this information._

 _On another note, if you recall the day that we met, you might remember that Lucius said to you he'd abide by the Lex Excetra. His exact words were 'whatever you wish', which the legacy curse seems to have interpreted in such a manner than makes him utterly unable to do anything against you, your ward, or if I'm assuming correctly in that you inherited headship of the organization, the Order of the Phoenix. To say he's livid would be an understatement._ _It is doubtful he could be convinced to actually support you and your cause, though despite his efforts to find a way around the Lex Excetra - an effort for which he's getting no help from me - he will not go against you. The Malfoy line is more important to him than the Dark Lord's vendetta._

 _Warmest regards,_

 _Narcissa Malfoy_

Hermione laughed out loud about the latter half of the letter, taking great pleasure in Lucius' woes. Served the bastard right, and Hermione was glad of what that would mean for Narcissa and Draco. If Lucius was truly bound by the Lex Excetra to that extent, then while he was unlikely to become an ally, neither could he become a true enemy. Most importantly, it meant that the Malfoy fortune could not be spent in support of Voldemort.

Regarding Narcissa's information, the blond witch had been correct to think that Hermione would be curious as to the fate of the half-blood child of Merope Gaunt's. The orphanage, Wool's, would have some record of the child's name, so Hermione could start there. If she wanted answers before the new year, she'd have to get over there today, as like everything else, the orphanage was likely to be closing its doors for the Christmas holiday.

Anxious to get started with that, Hermione looked up at the two McGonagalls, handing the letter to Minerva and addressing the young man seated across from them. "Well, we've covered what we needed to cover, and I've just been alerted to something I need to deal with before this evening's meeting. I look forward to seeing you later, Patrick."

"Likewise, Professor Slytherin," he replied.

He stood, and they did as well, the three walking to the door. Once Patrick had closed it behind him, and Minerva and Hermione had begun walking down the corridor, the taller woman handed the letter from Narcissa back to Hermione. "I take it you mean to go to the orphanage now?" Minerva asked.

The Defense Professor nodded. "I know it's just my curiosity to be satisfied, but…"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Hermione," Minerva assured her lover. "You do everything for the greater wizarding world. It's alright for you to do things for yourself as well."

Hermione sighed. "A part of me feels that the years I spent in the past… selfishly waiting for my daughter to grow up before I came back where I belonged… I sometimes feel like I used up all my right to be selfish back then."

Minerva sighed. "I don't believe that. You have a right to be selfish now and then, same as anyone. Go on, I'll mind the _minions_."

The other woman laughed. "Minions? You only call them that when they'd banded together and done something horrible. What was it this time?"

"Dudley suggested they engage in a muggle activity called _train surfing_ , which involves sitting or standing on top of a moving train. Harry, ever the Gryffindor, could not resist joining Dudley, and Emma decided it sounded like an intriguing exercise in physics."

"Oh my. They didn't actually do it, did they?" Hermione gasped, mind going over the dangers of such an activity.

"If I hadn't been at the station to meet Patrick, they'd be halfway to London," Minerva sighed. "I noticed them standing up on the roof of the train, bellowing like a bunch of baboons, about a minute after the train left. They were nearly around the bend and out of sight."

"Where are they now?"

"Scrubbing cauldrons for Severus," the Headmistress reported. "I was about to go relieve him. Actually, how about you take Severus with you to the orphanage? I'm not sure what sort of man Lucy's husband was, but I had the chance to meet Marvolo Gaunt when I was a girl. Highly unstable man. If Marvolo's grandchild ever discovered his or her roots, he or she could potentially be very dangerous."

Hermione nodded. "That's fair. If he's free, I'll take him along. A shame that the Gaunts came to madness, though. Julius was a decent enough boy. From what Narcissa's research has indicated, he did ultimately delve into the Dark Arts, but at that time, this was not unusual. It certainly wasn't illegal. The Ministry of Magic didn't even exist at the time. The only laws were some very basic code of conduct things dictated by those in positions of power. An early and never formalized Wizards' Council."

"Were Salazar and the others part of that group?"

"Sal and Godric, yes. At that point in time, women in positions of power was basically unheard of. A teaching position was about as much power as a woman could hold," Hermione replied sourly.

By then, the two had arrived at the Potions Classroom. Hermione only needed to glance disapprovingly at her three wards for them to gulp, understanding that she was not amused by their stunt any more than Minerva had been. "You three have lost broom privileges for the duration of the holiday break, and once term starts back up, you will be spending some time volunteering in the Hospital Wing. With luck, you'll see some horrific injuries that will make you think twice about doing something utterly reckless."

Her tone was quiet, but hard, and all three children were looking at their shoes guiltily when they each mumbled out _yes ma'ams_.

"I was so hoping they were going to get more punishment than just scrubbing cauldrons," Severus said, looking pleased.

Harry spared a glare at Severus, but made no comment, not daring to upset his godmother further. Hermione took note, but didn't comment, rather addressing the Potions master. "Minerva is here to take the children off your hands. If you're agreeable, I need to go into London and our esteemed Headmistress seems to think it would be wise if I had an escort."

"Order business?" Severus inquired.

"Not exactly."

He sighed. "Is this an effort on your part to befriend me?"

Hermione chuckled. "Sure, let's call it that. I will promise there's no shopping involved. If you're lucky, I may let you scare someone into giving me the information I seek."

"Look at that, my schedule just cleared!" Severus said almost cheerfully. Good a man as he fundamentally was, Hermione was well aware of his sadistic streak. "Just let me get my cloak."

"Transfigure something muggle or you'll stick out like a sore thumb," Hermione urged, quickly transfiguring her own robes into something appropriate for their outing.

An hour later, the pair were standing in front of Wool's Orphanage, both frowning at the state of disrepair. They saw six children out in the yard playing, each wearing threadbare coats and shoes that were more than a little worse for wear. "Bloody hell," Severus muttered, pulling out his wand and subtly directing it at each child.

"You can't give them new clothes," Hermione cautioned. "They'll be accused of stealing."

"I know," he muttered. "But I can cast long lasting warming charms on their coats and shoes. That might help prevent them from catching their deaths."

"You're a good man, Severus," Hermione whispered, clasping his hand. She was surprised when he didn't object to her remark, nor did he pull away.

"A better man than my father, at least," he muttered in reply.

Hermione suddenly understood. While Severus had a relationship with his mother's family now, she had known that Cyrus had vocally disapproved of Eileen's choice in husbands. Until this moment, she'd assumed that Cyrus had felt the way he did because the man had been muggle, but now Hermione felt it was fair to suspect that Tobias Snape had been a cruel man and a poor provider, if Severus' actions and comment just now were anything to go on.

"Shall we?" Hermione said softly after a moment.

"Of course," he replied, letting go of her hand and gently nudging her ahead of him though the barely open gate, the steel fencing stuck in the ice and snow.

Hermione's heart broke a little as the children glanced over at them, their faces telling of eager hope that whoever they were, the strange man and woman might be there to take one of them to a new home. She made a mental note to look at her finances - lucrative that they were from the artifacts that Salazar had left for her to find, sell, and use to build her life here - and consider what she could do to help this obviously decrepit muggle orphanage. It also reminded her that while she's spoken with her parents via letter, she had yet to make time to go and see them.

Before Christmas, she promised herself as they walked into the creaky old building, she'd go see her parents.

"Can I help you?"

A muggle woman, who looked to be at least eighty, greeted them. She was leaning heavily on a cane, but her eyes were sharp and calculating as she took the pair in.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I recently learned that a relative of mine had a child prior to her death, and that the child was raised here. I was wondering if you could help me to track he or she down. I'm afraid this would have been many years ago. The woman's name was Merope…"

"Gaunt?" the woman asked.

"Yes, actually," Hermione replied, surprised.

"I am Mrs. Crowley," she said, smiling a little. "I've worked here at Wool's since I was sixteen years old. At my age, lord knows I forget things, but Merope Gaunt was rather unforgettable, as was her son."

"A son?" Hermione asked, smiling. "Do you know where he is?"

"Now? Heavens no, and to be honest I'm perfectly happy not knowing. Tom was a troubled child, though he did shape up a bit after he went away to that boarding school."

Hermione and Severus glanced at each other, both wondering the same thing. "Do you recall the name of the school the boy attended?"

Mrs. Crowley frowned. "I'm not sure I ever heard the name, though I do remember the gentleman that came to speak to Tom about attending. Funny man with the oddest clothes. Dumbledore was his name."

"Did Tom have his mother's surname?" Hermione asked. "Or was he adopted out at some point?"

"Adopted, no. He was here till he came of age," Mrs. Crowley reported. "But the lad didn't have his mum's name either. Before Merope died, only hours after giving birth, she named him good and proper. I presume he was named for his father, whatever became of _him_. Tom's surname was Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Strange name, don't you think?"

Hermione's wide eyes and slack jaw betrayed her shock. Her heart was pounding and it took all of her will power not to empty her stomach on the floor of Mrs. Crowley's office. The only reason she hadn't fallen over was because Severus - his own shock pushed aside at the moment - had grabbed her.

"I'm afraid my sister has taken ill," he said to their hostess. "We'll be in touch if we have any further questions. Thank you for your time."

Severus did not wait for the woman's reply, nearly dragging Hermione back out the door, picking her up in his arms the minute they cleared the gate and apparating them away a moment later, having glanced back at the yard of Wool's and ensured that the children were not watching. He took them to yet another run down looking place, this time a house she'd never been to, and took her inside. By the time he deposited her on a sofa, she was hyperventilating.

"Sev… the child… oh gods…it's all my fault…"

The dour man rushed to a nearby bookcase and quickly snatched a bottle off one of the shelves. "Thank Merlin for stasis charms," he muttered.

"Sev...rus...can't...breathe…"

He was back at her side in seconds, uncorking the bottle and pressing it to her lips. "Bottoms up, Granger," he snapped. "Calming Drought will have you right as rain in a moment."

Hermione forced herself to swallow the mixture, and sure enough within a few seconds her breathing had eased. "Thank you," she whispered after a moment. "Good thing I brought you with me."

"I don't think this is what Minerva had in mind when she considered the danger a Gaunt heir might present," he snarked.

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking at him.

He huffed. "Shocked, certainly, though for reasons rather less dramatic than yours. I'm not the one who just found out I mothered the wizarding line that beget the Dark Lord. I'm just surprised to learn he's a half-blood, considering half his platform is based on blood purity. On the up side…"

"What?" she asked when Severus paused.

"I know where the Gaunt place was, not far from the Riddle Mansion in Little Hangleton," he said. "I had an uncle on my father's side around those parts. What I'm wondering is if the Dark Lord did eventually learn of his roots - it would explain his obsession with lineage. If he did, there's a chance there's a horcrux hidden in one of those two places. Likely the Gaunt house, even if it was nothing more than a shack by the time Marvolo and Morfin died."

"Fair guess," Hermione agreed. "We should go check at once. I doubt Mrs. Crowley was lying in that she didn't know what became of… Tom, but I wouldn't put it past Voldemort to have some sort of enchantment in place to alert him if anyone ever came there asking questions about him. I don't want to take the chance he'll find out we were there and beat us to it."

"I was thinking the same. That said, give yourself a few more minutes to recover. Blue is not a good color for you," he quipped.

Fifteen minutes later the two arrived with a _pop_ in front of a run down shack that reeked of dark magic. "There are a lot of protective enchantments," Hermione whispered. "Perhaps we should get backup. You've only just recovered. I don't want to see you hurt."

Severus shrugged. "Irma did fine teaching Potions in my stead. If I get hurt, I get hurt. I'm fairly sure I'll be fine, however. Given that I know the Dark Lord better than any of your other Order members, I'd be most able to break these enchantments in any case."

"Are you sure you're up to it? I could..."

He sighed. "'Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them.' Truly, Hermione, you are not the only one here who suffers guilt."

Hermione let out a ragged breath and nodded. "Apt. Hamlet."

"You stand guard while I bring down these wards," he directed, raising his wand. "I don't care to be the Dark Lord's guest again, if our concerns are warranted."

She did as her companion suggested without a word, beginning to walk around the property. By the time she made it around the perimeter twice, he'd taken down the protective enchantments, and they entered the decrepit house together. Both had wands raised, whispering an identical string of spells designed to detect dark magic. This would both warn them if there were further traps inside the shack, and help them locate the horcrux, if there even was one.

"There," Hermione said, pointing toward a small table that sat beside what was once a nice armchair. In the center of the table, all alone, sat a ring.

"Is that…?" Severus questioned.

"A horcrux, yes," she said. "Though I'm detecting an additional curse on the ring. If anyone tried to touch it with their bare skin, they'd be dead in a matter of hours."

"Someone with a great deal of knowledge about Potions and the Dark arts could stall the curses progression for a few months," Severus speculated as he did his own diagnostic. "But you're right, ultimately it would be fatal in any case."

"Sure of yourself, much?" Hermione teased as she levitated the ring into a thick, cloth bag which she had just transfigured from some of the nearby chair's upholstery.

"I worked hard to accrue the knowledge I have in those two fields, and I'm regarded one of the best in both areas of study by the European academic community," he replied. "I have earned the right to be sure of myself."

She chuckled. "That you have. Now, how about we get back to Hogwarts? We've only got about an hour before the Order meeting, and I for one would greatly love a shower before hand."

Severus, like Hermione, was covered with dust and cobwebs by this point, and he nodded in agreement. "Let's go."

The pair made it back to Hogwarts and went to their respective quarters, having just enough time to shower, change, and make their way to the Headmistress's office. From there, the two took the Floo over to Prince Manor, where the rest of the Hogwarts staff who were Order members had already gathered.

"You alright?" Severus asked, touching her shoulder lightly as they walked toward the din of voices that was the growing Order of the Phoenix.

"No," she admitted. "But for the sake of the people in this house tonight who need to see me as strong, I shall pretend to be."

"I'm sorry," he said, genuinely.

"'Never anything can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it.' I really don't mind all that much, Severus," she said. "I'll allow myself the moments of weakness, but I won't allow them to see it."

"A Midsummer Night's Dream," he correctly guessed. "Is this going to be a thing?"

She grinned at him. "Very likely."

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	42. Chapter 42

**I'm BACK! Sorry it took so long to update. With luck I'll get back into the groove quickly, and it won't be so long between updates. I just had ten glorious days in which my AMAZING Beta was in town for a visit. Her. In my house! For TEN DAYS! It was a total blast, and while you'd think I'd get more writing done with her around... not so much. Anyway, on the upside, this chapter is a long one. Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Hermione chuckled lightly as she watched Severus slink toward the dark corner in the foyer of Prince Manor where Leland was likely hiding from Alastor Moody, who seemed to be keeping his magical eye on Leland while conversing with Bill Weasley. Bill's girlfriend Fleur, who Hermione remembered from the Triwizard Tournament, stood close by but was engaged in conversation with her fellow Champion, Cedric Diggory.

"The kids are upstairs in the Library," Minerva said, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "Hagrid offered to watch them, as he's manning the fort at Hogwarts this evening, but I thought you'd prefer them not having the run of the castle after this morning's stunt."

"You thought right," Hermione replied. "Other than our three, what kids are here this evening?"

"Luna, Ron, Ginny, and Ethan Giles - Robert and Samantha's son - as well as Neville. Augusta and her brother were able to make it this evening."

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "They said they would when I talked to them last week. "Augusta was wary at first, which given what happened to Frank and Alice it's no surprise, but Algie said…"

"Algie told her to start thinking of the future of her grandson, and not what's long past and done with," the man in question spoke for himself. "Good to see you again, Madam Slytherin."

"Mister Fawley," Minerva greeted. "It's been some time."

"Minerva McGonagall, you are looking as fine as ever!" Algie exclaimed, smacking Minerva's bum.

"Oi!" Minerva's brother, Robert said, coming toward them. "That's my sister, you lecherous old hump!"

Despite the harsh words, the tone was warm, and the two men embraced tightly. "Rob you old dog, how have you been faring? I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it to the funeral…"

"With the sea of people who _were_ there," Minerva interjected, glaring at Algie. "you'd likely have been hard pressed to find one another. And how many times have I told you to keep your hands to yourself, Mister Fawley?"

"About as many times as I've told you to call me _Algie_ ," the grey haired man replied. "Say, have you seen Annabeth?"

"What is with you and lesbians?" Robert asked, chuckling.

"I seem to have a type," the other man replied. "Which is likely why I'm this damn old and still unwed. Of course, my dear sister Augusta tends to terrify other women, so that's a factor too."

Suddenly, Hermione burst out laughing, much to the surprise of Minerva, Robert, and Algie. "Sorry, you three just reminded me of someone…"

The easy banter between the three in Hermione's company reminded her of the feeling between she, Ron, and Harry, prior to her jump to the past. It had been a familiarity that had never had the chance to grow and mature, and never would. Still, it was a comfort. It was a laugh. And given the rough day she was having, it was needed. That said, this was not her group, so she excused herself, allowing for them to catch up as she moved through the crowd of people that she would one day lead into battles. It killed her to think of it, but she knew that she'd have followed a number of them into a fight without a second thought, were the roles different. That was what friendship was about.

She spotted Remus and Sirius against one wall, though she was too far away to pick up what they were talking about. Much closer to Hermione's position, she picked up on Xenophilius Lovegood's calm tone, and curiously turned to see who his conversation mate was. The man was certainly not everyone's cup of tea. His daughter Luna was much the same.

"Bastard children are not all that uncommon," Xeno said. "I'm one myself."

Charlie Weasley huffed. "I'm not saying they are. I'm just saying I'm not one of them. If any of us was a bastard, it would be Percy. How about you go talk to him about it?"

Anyone else might have laughed at the conversation, thinking Xeno to be out of his gourd, but Hermione was one of the few who knew the truth about Charlie. She made a mental note to speak to Molly about it in the near future.

Hermione spotted her new colleague, Patrick, in the midst of the crowd, talking to Amelia Bones. Given the latter's former relationship with Minerva, she was not surprised that Amelia and Patrick were acquainted. The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was new to the Order, though Hermione had asked Leland to recruit her. Hermione's hadn't actually met the woman as of yet. Well, now was a good a time as ever.

"Madam Bones, Mister McGonagall," she greeted, stepping toward them.

Patrick grinned. "Amelia, I'd like you to meet the Head of the Order, Professor Slytherin."

"Professor," Amelia greeted. "A pleasure. Mister Dourif speaks very highly of you. He seems to think you are more suited to lead the Order than Albus might have been."

"I shall endeavor to live up to such high expectations," Hermione replied graciously. "Leland mentioned that you had a list of people in your department that might warrant investigation?"

Amelia nodded, reaching into her robe pocket and pulling out a bit of rolled parchment. "There's nine names on that list, and some details on my observations. They haven't done anything _wrong_ per se, which is why I can't deal with them myself. I don't believe any of them are Death Eaters, but I suspect at least two of them are under the Imperius, and the rest are feeding the Dark Lord information for whatever other reasons. Likely blackmail or by threatening them. I already have Auror Moody keeping tabs on them, but like me, he cannot actually _do_ anything about it."

Hermione nodded, and then commented on something that had spiked her curiosity. "You call him _the Dark Lord_."

The other woman shrugged. "Force of habit, I'm afraid. My mother's side of the family, her aside, supported him during the last war. In fact, I do believe you had the misfortune of meeting my cousins. Amycus and Alecto?"

"Carrow," Hermione said mutely, trying to keep the disdain her her voice at a minimum.

Amelia nodded. "As you can imagine, I don't get on well with them. They were actually responsible for my brother Edgar's death toward the end of the last war. He'd been a Hufflepuff, like our father, though I was sorted to Slytherin like our mum. It was quite the scandal when a Carrow married a muggleborn _Hufflepuff,_ I was told."

Patrick laughed at that. "I'd say. Oh, by the way, my dad said to say _hello_. I didn't know you guys knew one another."

"Malcolm and Edgar were friends at Hogwarts," Amelia explained. "I don't see your father often these days, but I think he keeps his distance less because of the loss of Edgar, and more because of…"

"My aunt," Patrick finished. "Yeah, I know all about that."

Amelia raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. A sense of discomfort seemed to envelop them, and Hermione quickly came up with a way to break this reunion up. "Well, back to business. Madam Bones, I do believe that Sirius Black was looking forward to seeing you," she said, pointing to where her _husband_ was still talking to Remus. "And Patrick, I was wondering if you might go up to the Library and check on the children?"

"Of course, Professor," Patrick readily agreeing and after a quick nod to Amelia, he departed. Minerva's former paramour remained for a moment.

"I had honestly intended to stay out of the fight this time," Amelia admitted quietly. "But Sirius… the great idiot is supposed to be hiding from the Ministry but what does he do? He sneaks into the Ministry when he's _bored_ at his place to visit me. I have to admit, the first time he showed up I nearly called for the Aurors. Something inside me though… I never believed he was guilty. I watched him grow from boy to man - we were partners on the Auror force. He wasn't capable of betraying James and Lily. Having his freedom to fight for, well… I suppose it was a good a reason as any to join the Order."

"I'm glad you two have been able to resume your friendship," Hermione commented with a half smile. While she was glad that Sirius had a friend other than Remus, it became complicated in regard to Amelia's previous relationship with Minerva. Were she anyone else, Hermione would likely have been much more warm and welcoming, but this was the woman who'd broken Minerva's heart.

"As am I," Amelia said, then excused herself to go speak to the man in question.

With a sigh, Hermione continued to scan the room. She saw Robert and Samantha Giles speaking with Annabeth, which led her to seek out Annabeth's partner, Evelyn. A few seconds later she found the Head of the Department of Mysteries standing alone near the entry to the dining room, and she made her way over. "Evelyn," she greeted.

"Hermione," the other woman replied with a small, obviously forced smile. "It seems you're making excellent progress with recruitment. It's rather sad to consider that by the end of this war, some of us will be dead. I look at these people and I see such life, such zeal for their cause, and I wonder if even half of them understand what they're signing up for."

"I don't sugar coat anything when I recruit," the Order Head said. "They know they are signing up to risk their lives."

"How do you live with knowing that? I don't mean to suggest you're uncaring, but from one leader to another, I cannot imagine being in the position to order people to their possible deaths."

Hermione sighed. "It isn't easy, and I know it'll just be harder the more I get to know these people. But I have to remind myself that the greater good is at stake here. After all, ' _The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.'_ In the case of Voldemort, his triumph would be absolutely devastating to the Wizarding world."

"Burke," Evelyn placed the quote. "On one hand that makes perfect sense, but on the other hand, the idea of the greater good is a slippery slope. It is easy for anyone to fall into a pattern to abuse power. Do not think yourself above that."

"Perhaps you should show a bit more faith in our leader, Ms. Chancellor," Irma Pince said, stepping into the conversation, Augusta Longbottom with her. "As ' _Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.'_ and I for one do believe that Professor Slytherin has strength of character enough to wield the leadership of the Order with honor."

"Lincoln," Hermione identified the origin of the quote on power. "Irma, I'm glad you could make it."

"I was too afraid to join the Order last time," the Hogwarts Librarian admitted. "This time… well, it's long past time I face Tom."

"Better you than me!" Augusta commented with a chuckle. Irma nodded knowingly and the two older women shared a look, obviously both thinking about some information that Hermione and Evelyn weren't privy to.

For the second time in less than an hour, Hermione was surprised at the way one of the Order members addressed Voldemort. While not exactly a secret, it was not common knowledge that Voldemort had once been known as Tom Riddle. Hermione swallowed at the remembrance of how exactly Tom Riddle had come into exist, resisting the urge to throw up, and pushing forward with the conversation. "Tom?"

Irma knew what the question was, without it being full asked. "I went to school with him," she quietly explained. "Unknown to me at the time, my husband had bought into Tom's nonsense and had been working for him. When Thomas realized his error and tried to get away… well, let's just say that had I not been at St. Mungo's at the time my blood would have joined his in painting our living room red."

Hermione and Evelyn both winced at that picture, and Augusta rubbed Irma's back lightly. It was not the touch of lovers, but rather one of great familiarity between friends. Considering their respective ages, the youngest woman wondered if perhaps Irma and Augusta had gone to Hogwarts about the same time. Likely, they'd both known Tom Riddle before he became the monster he was now.

"Was Pince Thomas' name, or have you kept your maiden name?" Evelyn inquired, obviously trying to piece together more of Irma's life story.

"I kept my maiden name," Irma replied. "Thomas was an Avery."

The three women allowed the conversation to drift to lighter matters after that, continuing to chat until Hermione glanced up at a clock and decided it was time to call the meeting to order. "If everyone would join me in the dining room!" she called. "I've got extension charms on the table, so there's plenty of room for everyone. Let's get this meeting started."

One by one, all of the members did as directed. Hermione caught Severus' eye as he went out of his way to sit beside her, briefly touching her shoulder in silent support before he took his place. It was nearly mind boggling to consider given the way her relationship with the dour Potions Master had been in her youth, but Hermione realized in that moment that sometime in the last few hours, Severus Snape had become her dear friend.

She told Minerva as much after the meeting had ended and they and the children had returned to Hogwarts. After Harry, Dudley, and Emma had been sent to bed, Hermione made for a glass of firewhiskey, throwing back two shots in quick succession before she poured a larger measure into a tumbler and took it with her to sip on.

Instead of being critical of her indulgence, Minerva merely poured herself a small glass Firewhiskey and joined her lover on the sofa. "Rough day?" she asked.

"Quite," Hermione said simply, taking a sip. "As it often does, I believe my curiosity got the better of me. Some things are better off remaining… unknown."

"Your outing with Severus?" Minerva queried. "He seemed oddly attentive this evening, which makes me think you learned something very upsetting."

Hermione let out a bitter laugh. "Understatement of the century. And yes, Severus was an absolute brick. I'd likely have ended up at St. Mungo's if you'd not made me take him along."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Minerva asked softly.

Chocolate eyes vanished beneath eyelids first, then a set of delicate hands. Hermione hoped to hide the tears beginning to fall for just a moment, till she could regain her composure, but finally free to face the grief she'd been hiding for the better part of the day, her shoulders began to shake.

"Oh, my darling," Minerva said softly, pulling Hermione close. The younger witch collapsed into her lover's embrace, head falling on her lap. Minerva ran her fingers through the dark brown curls, whispering assurances that whatever might be causing such pain would sort itself out before long.

"I don't deserve you," Hermione whimpered softly, once she'd regained at least some of her composure. In fear that once Minerva knew what she'd discovered today she'd wholeheartedly agree, the younger witch held tightly to her former Professor's legs. If only for one last touch…

"Hermione there is nothing that you could do, past, present, or future, which would make me love you less," Minerva tried to assure her.

Before she lost her nerve and knowing she could not hide this from her lover, Hermione pressed on with her confession. "When I was there I worked so hard to help mold the future I knew I'd one day come back to. I came back because I thought I could help rid the world of Voldemort," she said between sniffles. "But it turns out had I never gone back, or had I at least seen sense in staying away from the people I already knew would shape the future of the Wizarding World, none of this would be happening. Harry would still have his parents… all the lives already lost to Voldemort's reign, and all those I know will still be lost before this is over… it all could have been prevented if I'd just…"

"What did you discover today, love?" Minerva asked gently. "What connection does Merope Gaunt have to Voldemort?"

"My daughter, my beautiful Lucy, mothered the wizarding line which eventually led to Marvolo, Morfin, and Merope Gaunt," Hermione whispered. "Merope came to love a muggle man, who she gave a potion to so that he'd love her in return, and then she fell pregnant. Sometime after that, her husband discovered she was a witch, and abandoned her, and a few months later she gave birth at a muggle orphanage, to a baby boy she called Tom, after his father."

Hermione paused, turned to look Minerva in the eye. "Tom... Marvolo... _Riddle_."

She supposed the gasp out of Minerva lips was to be expected, but she still flinched at the sound. Hermione pulled away from the older woman's body, curling up on the opposite side of the sofa, shaking in her guilt and dread. It was a long several minutes before Minerva finally formed a response. "Hermione, it may be so that through you and so many generations, Tom Riddle came into being, and eventually became Lord Voldemort. But you are _not_ responsible for the pain and suffering he has caused, because you had no impact on his life prior to returning home to fight against him."

"I think I want you to believe that more than I want to believe it myself," she responded, relaxing a bit now that she knew Minerva was not about to hex her to high heaven and curse her very existence.

"What made you come back?" Minerva asked suddenly. "I've always wondered why you didn't just stay and assume Albus could manage bringing Voldemort down just as he brought down Grindelwald."

Hermione had known that question was bound to come up some time. In the wake of Albus' death, she'd learned that the spellwork she'd done to save Lucy's life when she was a child had ultimately been perverted into the dark magic used to create a Horcrux. As she'd already suspected and Albus had come to the same conclusion, the night that James and Lily Potter died, their infant son Harry had become a Horcrux. After saving her daughter, Hermione had concluded the same via…

Well, perhaps it would be simpler just to _show_ Minerva. "I think the best way to explain that, as well as something else I have not shared with you, would be to take a look at my memory. Shall we?"

Minerva took Hermione's proffered hand, and they stood and made their way over to the cabinet in which Hermione stored her Pensieve. The younger woman removed the wards, and moved the large bowl over to her desk. For several minutes, Minerva watched as her lover selected a series of memories, and then with a heavy sigh, she nodded.

"Are you sure you want me to see these?" Minerva asked softly.

"Yes," Hermione said shortly. "I should have showed you a long time ago, but I feared that you would love me less if you knew… how very close to the darkness I have walked. The girl that you knew... well, let's just say that she wouldn't have approved. Nor do I expect you will."

"Let's just see and I'll make my own judgement," the Headmistress said calmly. "I know when you were a girl you saw me as… infallible … but you don't survive two wars without treading the line of darkness. No one is that lucky, and often times it is kill or be killed in a battle situation. Further, good judgment tends to fly out the window when facing choices that will impact someone you care for."

Hermione took some comfort from her former mentor's words, feeling like she was less likely to be judged harshly for her actions. Of course, that was obviously Minerva's aim in saying when she said. "Let's go," the younger woman said quietly, holding tightly to her lover's hand as they both leaned in to the swirl of memories.

 _Lucy lay in a large, comfortable looking bed, with a younger Hermione curled up next to her. The girl, only four, looked pale and sickly, a blue tinge to her lips indicating a lack of oxygen._

" _Any change?"_

 _The younger Hermione looked up to see her husband, Salazar, standing at the foot of the bed looking weary. Gone were the fancy robes he so loved, and in their place was nothing but a pair of breeches and a loose cotton shirt, obviously wrinkled from days of wear._

" _No," she whispered. "Lucy was awake for a little while - I told her some stories about 'the great and powerful Dumbledore'. You know how she adores them. She passed back out about ten minutes ago."_

" _We're going to lose her," Salazar said, voice betraying his resignation._

What's wrong with her?" Minerva asked.

Hermione sighed. "It presented very like Polio, though that disease was not around back then, and further, it did not appear to be contagious. It was just… one day she was fine, and then she got ill… a few days later she woke up unable to move her legs, and as the paralysis spread, she started having trouble breathing. The fact that we couldn't identify it is why we had such trouble treating her.

" _I found a possible cure, Hermione," Salazar said quietly. "It's a potion that removes all contagions on a body, and promotes the rebuilding of cells destroyed by that contagion. I can get the ingredients, but it takes at least three weeks to brew."_

" _Our daughter doesn't have three days," Hermione said sharply._

" _I know," he said, regret etched on his face. "Merlin knows I'd sell my soul to…"_

 _Hermione perked up at that. "Sal, stay with Lucy. I have an idea that might buy us that time. I need to go to the Library to reference a few books…"_

" _Go," he said, moving around to the side of the bed and helping her up._

The memory swirled, showing a shift in scene, but the location was just the same. Minerva expected that a day had passed, given that the only thing that had changed was that Lucy looked a bit worse, but still not quite at death's door.

" _I found a way to buy us time," the younger Hermione said, stepping into the room. "But you're not going to like it. Rowena and Godric will like it even less."_

" _The dark arts?" Salazar inquired._

 _Hermione nodded. "Unquestionably."_

" _Then we simply shan't tell them," he said. "And like it or not, I will do what I must to save our daughter."_

" _In the case of magical soul mates, one cannot die of mundane causes while the other survives," the young mother stated. "So we make Lucy a magical soul mate. We give her a piece of each of our souls - just one of us would break our own souls beyond repair, but a little of each should heal in time."_

 _Salazar nodded. "How?"_

" _I've created a potion, and in conjunction with a spell, I believe we can do this. If you are willing, I already have the potion ready. Ingredients were… mostly easy to acquire."_

" _Mostly?"_

 _Hermione handed Salazar a vial with a silver liquid encased within._

" _Only one thing makes a Potion turn this particular shade of silver," he commented. "Did you have to kill one?"_

" _No," Hermione assured him. "However in exchange for the blood, I had to promise the Unicorn sanctuary at Hogwarts… indefinitely. The herd should arrive within the week."_

 _He shrugged. "Not a bad exchange. What else is in this?"_

" _Powdered yew, dragon's blood, phoenix tear, chopped mint, chopped sagebrush, snakes' tongues, calamus, diced mandrake, mustard seed," Hermione listed. "And we'll need to add our blood as well. The spell I've prepared will use our blood as a target marker. The potion will need to be spread on Lucy's chest, and once I've cast the spell it should seep into her skin. If it works, it'll likely leave a mark of some sort on her skin."_

 _He pulled a dagger out of the sheath resting on his hip, and handed it to her hilt first. "Ladies first," he offered._

 _She took it quickly, and let seven drops of her own blood fall into the vial. "And you," she said, handing the knife back to him, and holding the potion out for him to drop his own lifeblood into. He, too, let seven drops fall, and the mixture bubbled on its own accord, quickly mixing their offering so that it no longer appeared to stain the silver unicorn blood._

"Come closer," Hermione said to Minerva, taking her hand. "You'll be getting the answer to your question, or should, in just a few moments.

 _The memory-Hermione spilled the mixture onto her daughter's chest, which had been bared to accommodate the ritual. She then handed Salazar a bit of parchment, which he read quickly. "Say the spell with me, wands both pointed at Lucy's chest."_

 _The witch and wizard each poised their wands, and with a quick nod from Hermione a moment later, they spoke in concert. "Hac tum praetoria nave ne mortem animam meam."_

 _There was a blinding flash of eerie green light, and the silver mixture seeped into Lucy's skin, and soon as it was all gone, Minerva could see both Hermione and Salazar wincing at a pain of some sort. Moments later a small silvery puff escaped the tips of their respective wands, and entered Lucy's chest in the same place that the last of the potion had been. Another flash of the same green light, and all was silent and still._

" _Well that_ hurt _," Salazar complained lightly. "But look, her breathing eases already."_

" _You just ripped away a bit of your own soul," Hermione commented dryly. "Were you expecting it to tickle?"_

 _Salazar shrugged, and leaned over to look at his daughter. "The mark isn't so bad," he said, pointing. "Looks like a lightning bolt."_

 _The younger Hermione looked, and her jaw dropped. "Oh… shite."_

Hermione of the present took her lover's hand, and a moment later they were back in their quarters. "Does that answer your question?" she asked quietly.

Minerva appeared to still be digesting the information. "If the ritual to save Lucy involved the splitting of your souls - obviously a precursor to Horcrux magics if you know what that is - and if Harry survived his parents' deaths and was left with the same mark that Lucy got… then...oh dear lord, that means Harry is a Horcrux!"

"I believed so, and was unsure if anyone else would realize," Hermione said. "Albus suspected as well, though he lacked my first hand experience on the matter. What I don't believe he put together is that as Horcrux magic evolved - and don't think I don't feel guilt over ever having created it to start with - the Potion was lost, and replaced with the act of murder. The spell part of the ritual, however, remained the same. This means that Voldemort had to have intended to make a Horcrux the night he killed the Potters. Lily's interference merely changed the vessel. I know for a fact that Voldemort created at least two others. Likely more."

Minerva sat down on the sofa, looking as though the world had just come crashing down around her. It was one thing to consider fighting a powerful enemy when you thought him mortal, and another when you knew for a fact he could not be killed while his soul remained protected in Merlin knew how many pieces. Further, like Hermione, Minerva was realizing that the boy she'd come to love as a son may ultimately have to die, if the wizarding world had any chance at all to survive.

"My god," she uttered.

* * *

 **Next Chapter is Christmas Eve! PLEASE REVIEW!**


	43. Chapter 43

**I apologize for a third chapter in a row from Hermione's point of view, however, most of what is happening at the moment directly impacts her, and as such is best shown from her perspective. I promise, we'll get back to a Minerva point of view soon! Also, this would be a good time to remind you all that this story is rated M. Do enjoy.**

* * *

December the twenty-fourth dawned with a headache for Hermione, though a trip to her personal potions stores and a gulp full of hangover remedy took care of that. After more than a year of putting it off, today she was going to go see her parents. To them, it had only been since Christmas break of her third year that they'd seen her, though from Hermione's point of view at had been more than three decades. She'd mourned them in the first years after her arrival in the past, and it felt like they were back from the dead now that she'd returned. To them, she supposed, she was some errant child who'd refused to come home for the holidays. It really hadn't been that long, given that they'd grown used to typically only seeing her during the holidays.

Hermione had written them a letter shortly after returning which explained that there had been an accident which had accelerated her age, and that because of this she was now considered an adult in the magical world. As such, she'd written, it may be some time before she could make it home for a visit, as she needed to get a lot of things sorted out. It had been part of the truth, and thankfully her parents had written back and said they understood. A mother herself, she knew damn well they didn't actually understand, just as they knew there was nothing they could do about it. Still, as detached as she felt from her muggle roots at this point, she still felt it was important that she reconnect with them. If for nothing else, her three wards could use a set of grandparents, and she suspected that her parents would be more than willing to fill the role. They'd been in their late forties when she'd been born, so technically they were old enough to _be_ grandparents, had they had her earlier in life. If there was one thing she was grateful in this whole mess, it was that her parents, despite her age acceleration, were still older than their daughter.

"Headed over to your parents' place?" Minerva asked sleepily from what had become _their bed_.

Hermione was putting on the last of her clothing and slipping on her knee high boots. "Yes," she said softly. "I don't know how long I'll be. There's so much to tell them and I don't honestly know how well they're going to deal with it."

"Are you going to tell them _everything_?" her paramour asked.

By _everything_ Hermione knew Minerva was asking if she intended to tell them about their relationship. "It will depend on how well they deal with their supposedly teenaged daughter being suddenly on the edge of fifty."

"You don't look fifty," the older witch said, smiling lazily.

"Perhaps not," Hermione chuckled. "But I feel it in my bones. Not pain or anything… just…"

"Life?"

"Yes," she agreed. "I have to go. Remember the kids can't have their brooms, and see if you can talk Severus into joining us for supper. I know he likes to pretend otherwise, but he's become a part of this family. I know Annabeth and Evelyn took a portkey to America yesterday to spend the holiday with Evelyn's family, so he really has no excuse."

"I'm Headmistress," Minerva commented with a smirk. "I'll order him here if that's what it takes."

Hermione pecked her lover on the lips with minimal feeling, still having a hard time processing that Minerva didn't _hate her_ for what she'd inadvertently done. It actually blew her mind, which was not a thing that often happened to Hermione Jean Slytherin. All the same, this was something she just couldn't comprehend, and until she wrapped her head around it, Minerva would have to deal with her being a bit distant. "I'll see you later," she said.

"Good luck!" Minerva called behind her, as Hermione strode out the door quickly, anxious to get on with her task.

Half hour later, she was standing in front of her childhood home, trying to work up the nerve to cross the street, walk up the drive, and knock on the door. It took her another whole ten minutes to get that far, and as her knuckles rapped smartly on the red, wooden door, she suddenly realized that she had no idea how to start. Minerva hadn't recognized her, so why would her parents, who saw her less frequently than her former mentor had in those three years she'd been a student at Hogwarts?

The door opened and suddenly her mother was standing right there, staring at her. The two women just looked at each other for nearly a full minute, before Jean Granger finally spoke. "Hermione?" she whispered.

"Yes, mum, it's me," she replied softly, tears beginning to fall.

A moment later mother and daughter were wrapped in a bruising hug, both openly weeping. They stood in the threshold for a short time, before Jean pulled away and ushered her daughter inside. "Come in, come in," she urged. "Your father will be ecstatic! What a wonderful Christmas surprise!"

Hermione let out a sigh of relief at the welcome. She'd been so worried they'd turn her away. After all, it's not like they knew her anymore. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come visit," she admitted. "I was… afraid you would not be able to accept me now. So much has changed."

"Obviously," Jean replied, glancing back at her as they walked down the hall to John Granger's home office. "I suspect that the accident you spoke of in your letter was more… complicated than you shared. You've done more than physically aged, Hermione. You grew up and we missed it all. Not that we weren't missing plenty already, what with the you being in the magical world and all, but this… this is more."

"I'll tell you everything," Hermione promised.

"John!" Jean exclaimed as they walked into her husband's office. "Look who decided to drop in!"

Hermione father looked up from his papers, pen still in hand, and peered at their guest in confusion. Neither woman said anything as he searched his memory to place this seemingly strange woman. Then, pen falling out of his grip in his shock, he got it. "Bloody hell. Hermione!"

"Dad," she said warmly, meeting him halfway and falling into his strong embrace. "I've missed you so much!"

The three Grangers made their way to the sitting room, and while Jean was making tea for the three of them, Hermione and her father talked about the dental practice and how things were going with that. When Jean returned and each of them had taken a cup of the warm beverage in hand, John switched gears and got right to the point. "So, young lady, what on earth happened to you? And for God's sake be more honest than you were in that letter you sent."

"You remember that I was given a time turner at the start of my third year so I could take all those classes I wanted?" she asked. When her parents nodded, she continued. "Well toward the end of term that year, I tripped and fell, breaking the timeturner in the process. I was flung back in time nearly one thousand years, to before Hogwarts was even built. I remained there for the next thirty years, by my point of view, trying to find a way home. I actually knew the four people who founded the school, and ended up helping with its construction."

"I bet you loved that!" John chuckled. "How many times had you read that book - _Hogwarts, A History_? You got to be part of it!"

"It was wonderful," Hermione agreed. "I enjoyed my life there - even married and had two daughters. I can't even begin to express how much I wished you'd been there with me. My older daughter, Lucy, would have adored you."

"Not the younger?" Jean asked, looking confused and mildly offended.

Hermione sighed. "This is where it gets complicated. My husband, Salazar Slytherin, was Lucy's father. Salazar and I had a shared lover, Rowena Ravenclaw. I had always planned to come home, and did so just after Lucy married when she was sixteen. Rowena had discovered she was pregnant with Helena, and did not want to make my leaving harder than it already was, so did not tell me. I was the...er… _father_ in the case of Helena's conception. The only reason I know about her at all is because Helena, unfortunately, died young and remained at Hogwarts as a ghost, knowing one day she'd get to meet the parent she'd never known. I'm only now getting to know her myself, and I was not around for her childhood - thus I cannot speculate on how she might have liked grandparents."

Her parents stared blankly at her for a moment, before Jean finally shook her head and commented. "Well then," she said. "That's mildly awkward for me to imagine but I can accept it."

"What about now, Hermione?" John asked, pressing forward. "You've been back for well over year now, if I'm understanding this whole thing correctly. Have you found someone new? You don't look too old to have another kid or two if you found yourself a nice hus...uh...partner."

Hermione appreciated that her father was trying to say he could accept the idea of his daughter with a woman, especially given that it was in fact, a reality whether he liked it or not. "Yes," she admitted. "And you've met her before. I'm with Minerva McGonagall."

Jean raised an eyebrow. "Hermione, she's your Professor."

"She _was_ my Professor, mum," the witch said, rolling her eyes. "I could hardly jump back in with my fellow third years when I returned. I know I don't look it, but I'm forty-seven years old now."

"Do your friends - Harry and Ronald - know everything?"John asked suddenly.

"No," Hermione replied. Very few people know who I really am, and it _must_ stay that way, or I'd surely be arrested for breaking about a hundred laws of time travel. As far as the general population of the wizarding world is concerned, Hermione Granger, muggleborn witch, was killed in an accident the summer between her third and fourth years at Hogwarts."

"Oh my," Jean said, feeling a bit sick at the idea.

"As to who the wizarding world thinks I am, there are two stories floating around," Hermione continued. "Most of them believe I am _Amelia_ Slytherin, a witch who came by such an infamous name via a marriage and then widowing to a man who was a long lost descendant of that family line. You have to understand, the name _Slytherin_ died out many years ago. Now, Salazar and Rowena decided after I left to try and create a way for me to still remain in a politically strong position, knowing that the time and place I was returning to was on the verge of war…"

"War!" Jean exclaimed.

"I'll get back to that, mum," Hermione said, and then pressed on. "So they propagated a story to be passed down through powerful family lines, which told of a woman, Hermione Slytherin, who possessed a means to remain young for many, many years, and asked that should I resurface and be in need of aid, they were duty bound and magically required to give that aid. So in short, I often feel as though my head is spinning as I try to balance _Hermione: Time Traveler,_ _Hermione: Immortal wife of Salazar Slytherin,_ and _Hermione: Last of a ragged House, long bereft of Lordship._ It's exhausting to have to keep up such masks."

"So this Slytherin chap was a Lord?" John asked, looking decidedly more interested in Salazar than he had when Hermione had first mentioned her husband.

"He was, and yes dad, that does technically make me _Lady_ Hermione Slytherin, though in modern times, I'm usually addressed as _Madam_ Slytherin."

"Are you and...Minerva… going to have children?" Jean inquired.

Hermione chuckled. "Biological, I honestly doubt it. We have our hands pretty full with the three wards we have. I'm raising Harry, who's now sixteen, as well as his cousin Dudley, also sixteen. Dudley's mother… passed away, and his father is in prison. Our most recent addition to the family is Emma - she's thirteen. Her father died some years ago, and her mother was a dear friend of mine and Minerva's, and she was murdered only a few months ago."

"I suppose that comes back to the war you were talking about," John commented.

Hermione nodded, and launched into an explanation of _that_ whole mess, before the topic turned back to Minerva and the children for a little while, before the witch finally called the visit to an end, knowing that she really did need to get going. She had one more stop before she returned to Hogwarts, and it was already nearly lunch time.

She promised to return soon, and bring the kids and Minerva next time, and after a couple of long hugs, she was on her way again, feeling considerably lighter.

Hermione apparated to the edge of the wards surrounding the cottage where Sirius was still living from her parents' front stoop as soon as she'd checked nobody was in sight. She was going to see him tomorrow afternoon at Hogwarts for Christmas, but he'd requested that she pop by sometime today to discuss something privately. It had been at last night's Order meeting that he'd made the request, and by now her curiosity was nagging.

The size of the anti-apparation net had been reduced a good deal since she and the children were spending all their time at Hogwarts these days, though it was still large enough that it required a ten minute walk up to where the cottage was. They'd removed the Floo connection as an added precaution, since there was no longer safety in numbers for the last of the Blacks. When she arrived, Hermione knocked on the door to alert Sirius she was there, though she didn't wait for him to answer before she let herself in. Technically, this _was_ her house.

"Hermione?" Sirius called from up the stairs.

"Yes, Sirius, it's me!" she called back.

He promised to be right down and sure enough, not even a minute later, he bounded down the wooden steps. "Hey," he greeted, giving her a warm hug. "Thanks for coming. I do try and stay in like I promised."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You must be forgetting the trip to the Ministry to have a chat with your friend Amelia Bones."

He had the good grace to blush at the chastisement, though there was a sparkle in his eyes as he did. "It's actually Amelia that I wanted to talk to you about. You see, well… we've reconnected. We were great friends back then, even if she was a bit older than me."

"I'm glad you have a friend," Hermione said. "Though I don't know why that required me to come all the way out here."

He rolled his eyes. "We're not friends anymore, Hermione. We've been dating. We're talking about getting married."

Hermione's face went white. Minerva was _not_ going to handle this well. "What?" she finally breathed out, panic showing in the high pitch of her voice.

"There are other Order members who are married or dating," Sirius said defensively. "It's not against the rules. And I already figured out how to keep Harry with you legally. We'll just adopt him, _then_ get divorced, at which point it's just an issue of him living with his legal mum. Obviously I still want to be a part of the kid's life, but we both know he's best off with you primarily…"

"Sirius, that… neither of those issues are a concern," Hermione interjected. "My concern is a bit closer to home. Amelia and Minerva have quite the history. Did she not tell you?"

He frowned. "What kind of history are we talking about here?"

"The kind that involves years worth of shagging and then Amelia choosing career over love and breaking Minerva's heart halfway to Azkaban," she said frankly. "I have no problem with Amelia, don't mistake me. I'm honestly very happy for you. I am just going to need to find a way to break this to Minerva… bugger that, I'll have a word with your _girlfriend_ and have her be the one to tell Minerva."

"GODS!" Sirius exclaimed suddenly, looking horribly put out. "How did I go from having a mother figure who was shagging my wife, to a hopefully future wife who used to shag my mother figure?"

Hermione remembered the conversation in the kitchen the summer before, and burst out laughing. "Oh that's just funny."

"Is not!"

"Is so!" she insisted.

"Hermione!" he grumbled, looking all manner of pathetic.

"Sirius!" she teased.

"I'm never, ever going to live this down, am I?" he asked timidly, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"Never," Hermione promised, mirth still evident in her eyes.

"Please don't tell Remus," Sirius begged.

"I promise nothing," she grinned. "Though I'll not go out of my way to tell him. I will however speak to Amelia - I know you'll want to speak to her about it too, but I don't want you leaving the cottage to do so, and I want this sorted before Amelia shares something with another friend who tells another friend until it gets back to Minerva second hand."

"Okay," he sulked.

She bid Sirius farewell with another hug and a sincere congratulations and headed out the door at a brisk walk. The ten minutes to the edge of the wards in the chilly temperature made quick work of her remaining amusement at Sirius' expense, leaving way for thoughts of yet another task she had to take care of, another worry on the horizon, and by the time she had apparated to the edge of Hogwarts' wards, her mind had drifted over the freshly kicked up sense of guilt.

A little while later, Hermione arrived home to find it empty save Minerva. There was so much on her mind that she barely offered greeting to her lover, instead moving toward the kitchen to start getting things set for supper. Minerva informed her that the kids were out with Hagrid, and that they, along with Severus and Helena, should be arriving back for supper in about two hours. To Hermione's surprise, Minerva come up behind her and wrapped her hands around her partner's waist, placing a soft kiss just below her ear as fingers slipped under the younger woman's shirt. Hermione felt nails scrape lightly across her abdomen, as Minerva whispered in her ear. "Put the glasses down."

Hermione knew Minerva's words were a demand, and despite the fact that her brain was readily reminding her of how undeserving of love she believed she was, she closed her eyes and melted into Minerva's embrace, glasses clinking as they landed gently on the counter. Her hands moved to where the older woman's were, intent on removing herself from Minerva's hold, but as the tips of her fingers met the back of Minerva hands, the other witch quickly moved to entwine her fingers with Hermione's and grip tightly. As soon as Minerva had her hold, she guided both of their hands over the brunette's stomach, and upward against her skin."I know what you're thinking, what you're feeling," Minerva muttered. "But you're _wrong_ , love. Don't pull away from me."

Her lips moved against Hermione's jaw and down her neck, and as her thumbs touched the underside of the younger woman's breasts, she bit down on her pulse point. Hermione let out a soft moan. She couldn't help it - it felt good, the way Minerva touched her. Hermione's head started turning, and her body pivoted toward her lover. Minerva let her turn, but as she did she let go of Hermione's hands and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over the younger woman's head by the time she'd completely turned around.

"I don't…" Hermione tried to protest, but Minerva was not hearing it. She quickly moved forward and captured the younger woman's lips, quieting any objections and all uncertainty.

 _It's just a kiss,_ Hermione told herself, allowing her lips to part and Minerva's tongue to slide against her teeth. Their movements were slow, and sensual at first, but it wasn't long before - as Minerva's fingernails scraped against Hermione's bare skin - her hands were exploring the Scottish woman's body as well.

As Hermione's hands dared to reach under Minerva's shirt, the older woman upped the pace of the kiss and pushed her backwards, roughly pressing Hermione against a wall. The younger woman's fingers gripped the edges of Minerva's shirt but made no movement. After a minute, Minerva grabbed Hermione's wrists and pulled them up, her shirt coming off as Minerva pinned Hermione's hands above her head for a minute, continuing to kiss her.

Then, Minerva relaxed her grip and slid her hands down Hermione's arms, and down her sides, lips seeming to follow the movement lower and lower. As Minerva's hands reached Hermione's shoulders, she kissed her lover's neck. As they reached her ribs, Minerva lips moved down her chest, and the older woman's face nuzzled between Hermione's breasts before the tip of her tongue began to climb the swell until it met fabric.

Minerva growled, and clawed at Hermione side with her left hand as her right hand moved to Hermione's back and unsnapped her bra, quickly pulling the strap off her shoulder so that the right cup loosened enough for Minerva's tongue to sweep the lace away, slowly inching her way closer and closer to the highly erect nipple that she seemed desperate to taste. Hermione's body was humming in a way it had not done in months, and as Minerva's mouth closed around her nipple, what little will to stop this faded, echoing away against the sound of blood pulsing through her ears until absolutely nothing but the moment mattered.

Minerva's hands have moved to Hermione's hips, thumbs pressing into her stomach, just to the inside of her hipbone. The pressure sent a flood of arousal through her, and as Minerva's kiss landed just above the button of Hermione's jeans, a second wave hit her.

"Fuuuuck…" she groaned, fingers tangling into Minerva's long hair.

Hermione felt the older witch's fingers slide under her jeans - just a little bit - and inch by inch her hands moved closer to the center, until they were resting against the button. Minerva look up at her, pausing in her movements, seeming unwilling to push further without some real sign it was wanted. "Yes?" she asked, tugging slightly against the fastener, fingers sliding a little bit deeper under her waistband, teasing.

"Gods, yes," Hermione whimpered, looking down at her lover with hungry eyes.

Minerva stood back up, recapturing Hermione's lips as she unbuttoned Hermione's jeans and slid down the zipper. Hermione felt one hand press against the small of her back, and another slide under the fabric of her underwear, seeking and finding a hot, wet center that quivered as Minerva touched it softly.

"You're bloody soaked," Minerva murmured in Hermione's ear. "So wet for me, love."

"Bedroom?" Hermione had the sense to suggest as her fingers moved first to unsnap Minerva's bra, and second to unbutton the older woman's slacks.

As soon as Minerva's bra fell away she pressed roughly against Hermione, knee rising to put pressure against her throbbing core. The combination of that and their bare breasts coming together at last took Hermione's breath away for a moment, until Minerva's fingernails pressed into the skin of her lower back, causing her to hiss.

The pain snapped Hermione to a new level of alertness, and she moved to take control. "Bedroom," she said, this time not a question but an order, and though they stumbled a few times in the process as they continued to kiss and touch, they made it to the bedroom before long. Hermione's legs pressed into the side of the bed, and Minerva quickly pushed her jeans and underwear down below her arse, and then a moment later pushed Hermione onto the mattress, kneeling down and pulling them off completely.

Minerva pressed her hand to the mattress and pushed Hermione's thighs apart with her bare shoulders, her face moving forward and dipping in the process. She slowly slid two fingers inside her lover, pressing down with her hand to hold Hermione in position. The younger witch moaned at the intrusion, and then again as Minerva's tongue darted forward and flicked against her clit. Hermione's fingers clawed at the comforter, and as Minerva continued to lick her, she moved back onto the bed to try and escape the overwhelming sensation. Minerva moved with her, but her fingers slid out of Hermione for a moment and when she put them back, she'd turned her hand around; as Minerva's fingers curled inside of her, the tips grazed against her g-spot, and Hermione gasped. Minerva wrapped her lips around Hermione's clit and began thrusting her hand, slow and steady and with every impact, she hit _that spot_. Her free hand snaked around Hermione's leg and pressed into her lower stomach, forcing the already straining abdominal muscles to tighten further, sending Hermione closer to the edge.

Minerva's hand started to thrust faster and harder, and Hermione's hips shifted on their own accord, trying to catch each movement in the best possible way. It was a mutual rhythm and it only needed to last a minute, before Hermione stiffened and her core clamped hard against Minerva's fingers, still buried deep inside her.

"Fuck!" Hermione let out as the first waves of pleasure swept over her, intense enough that it left her limp and tingling in the moments after.

However, Minerva was not finished.

Sliding off Hermione's abdomen, the older witch's hand moved back around and between her legs. She still had one hand, soaked in cum, resting in Hermione's core; the other moved into position to press Minerva's thumb lightly against the bundle of nerves just above Hermione's clit, gently massaging as her tongue ran circles around the exposed nub. As relaxed as Hermione felt, it didn't take long before her body was tensing again and this time, the build was even faster.

"Yes, yes, gods yes…" Hermione muttered as Minerva pulled her closer and closer toward a second climax.

Minerva didn't need to move faster; the rhythm and pressure combined was getting Hermione there quickly enough. "Almost there," Minerva promised against the throbbing flesh a few minutes later. The vibration of her voice was just enough to tip the scale and suddenly Hermione was gasping. Minerva pressed harder with her thumb and massaged the nerves quickly.

"Cum for me, love," the Scottish woman urged, just before she started to suck on Hermione's quaking clit.

"Holy… FUCK!" Hermione screamed, coming fast and coming hard.

Minerva remained still for a few seconds as Hermione's body rode out the orgasm, and then she moved away slowly, kissing the insides of her thighs as she did, chuckling a bit as Hermione shuddered at every contact of her lips. Minerva was still not actually on the bed, so she slipped out of her slacks and joined her lover.

"I can't feel my legs," Hermione mumbled.

Minerva pressed a kiss to Hermione's lips, which she only half heartedly returned. She didn't have the energy at the moment to do much more.

"You're welcome," Minerva smirked, earning herself an eyeroll. "I love you," she added.

"I love you too," Hermione replied, feeling the emotion both from herself and from her partner for the first time since Albus' death. It had been been a hard few months, and they both now had greater responsibilities than they'd had when their relationship had begun.

Still, it was Christmas and despite the hardships behind and ahead of them, they had a lot to be grateful for. Hermione leaned over and pressed her lips to Minerva's, intent on _returning the favor_ before they had to get up and make dinner for their family. It certainly wouldn't do for Severus and the children to show up to their shirts and bras scattered about the kitchen floor, at the least. Well, it wouldn't do for the children to see it… Hermione didn't mind scarring Severus for life, now that she thought about it.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	44. Chapter 44

**Brace yourselves for some fun reveals, and some fantastic Severus moments. Our Potions Master is finally giving up on his "meany" persona. :D I am heading cross country - moving to Pennsylvania - tomorrow morning, so the next update you guys get will be from there, and it may be a bit longer than usual, as I'll be pretty busy getting settled in. I promise, Telling Time will not be forgotten!**

* * *

Minerva and Hermione awoke with the dawn on Christmas morning, both dressing quickly and making their way out of the living area so that, to the children, Minerva might have simply arrived before their eyes thought to open. They would have no reason to suspect she'd spent the night in their guardian's bed.

" _Soon,"_ Hermione had promised as they had been going to bed the night before. " _We'll tell them about us soon."_

Of their expected guests, Severus was the first to arrive, knowing they'd be up early. Helena floated in only a few minutes later, surprising the dour potions Professor. Hermione quickly explained their relation, and by the time he'd quite recovered from that, Sirius had arrived looking completely cheerful until he spotted his boyhood nemesis.

"What the bloody hell is _he_ doing here?" Sirius spat.

"I'd imaging the same as you, Black," Severus said in an even tone. "Spending Christmas with Hermione and her… _family_."

"Sirius, please," Hermione said tiredly. "For the sake of the children, set aside your history with Severus. It was all a long time ago."

"He's a Death Eater!" Sirius objected.

"Was a Death Eater," Hermione corrected. "And so was Leland, and you have no problem with him."

"James wouldn't have wanted that _git_ around Harry," the Black heir stated firmly.

"But Lily would be glad that her best friend since she was a child was watching out for her son," Hermione countered, tone firm.

"You're both gits," Harry sleepily mumbled from his now open bedroom door. "Doesn't mean you're any less family." To the surprise of everyone in the room, Harry moved across the room toward Severus instead of his godfather, and wrapped the man in a warm hug. "Happy Christmas, sir," he said.

Severus only took a moment to recover, hugging Harry back and returning the holiday greeting, all the while looking over Harry's shoulder at Hermione with an expression that clearly suggested just how at a loss he was to explain Harry's sudden affection.

After Harry let him go and went over to greet Sirius, Severus moved toward Minerva. "What was that?" he asked her, looking perplexed.

"I'm not honestly sure," Minerva replied, still watching Harry. "Though I'd venture to guess that Harry has noticed you're not a bad man to have around."

Severus expression spoke of mixed feelings, and Minerva knew what he was thinking. On one hand, he did not like that the son of James Potter seemed to no longer have the fear of him he'd held since they'd met, but on the other hand he was pleased that Lily's boy could see the good in him - see his worth - the way that his mother once had. When Dudley woke next and greeted him just as Harry had, Severus seemed to respond better to his hug, even ruffling Dudley's hair a bit before the once-muggle boy went over to greet Sirius.

When Emma woke up, she went directly to Minerva, sitting with her on the sofa and curling up against the Headmistress' warm body. She said nothing as the rest of the group chattered about this and that, and after a few minutes Minerva realized that the young Ravenclaw had fallen back to sleep in her embrace.

Of course, Minerva's nephew arrived only minutes after. "I would get up to hug you, Patrick," she said with a wry grin. "However I seem to have a sleeping child on my lap."

Patrick nodded in understanding, and promised a hug once Emma woke up again. He was quickly distracted by the arrival of Dourif - the last of their expected guests - to which Minerva sighed in exasperation. She had gotten to a point where she could accept that Dourif did well with the children, and that he was indeed loyal to Hermione, but that did not negate her own history with the man. She would trust him to a point, respecting her lover's judgement, but _only_ to a point.

Minerva was surprised when the sound of Dourif's low tones woke Emma from her slumber. "Leland!" the girl shouted, launching off the sofa and into his ready arms.

Dourif picked the petite girl up and spinned her around before holding her in a tight hug. "Ah, there's my nibblet," he cooed. "How have you been? Haven't seen much of you since your mum…"

The two shared a sad look, surprising Minerva further. She hadn't realized that Rosmerta, or Emma, had a standing relationship with Leland Dourif. The Headmistress made her way over to where Hermione was quietly standing and nodded toward the scene with a raised eyebrow. "What on earth is that about?"

"Leland has been a part of Emma's life since she was born," Hermione said quietly as she pulled Minerva around the corner where they couldn't be seen. "Though Rosmerta never felt he'd make a suitable guardian, he is technically Emma's godfather. She trusted him to ensure Emma's safety. And Emma adores him. Oh, and speaking of family ties, I need to have a word with Molly."

"I'm failing to see the segue…"

"Charlie and Emma share a biological father," Hermione whispered. "While certainly not necessary, I think that Emma could benefit from having a relationship with Charlie, but I will not go against Molly's wishes if she prefers to keep Charlie in the dark about his own beginnings. I was talking with Emma the other day and Rosmerta never hid the truth from her daughter, regarding how she came to be. Like Molly and Arthur, Rosmerta and her husband, Eion, utilized the sanguifiliorum. Eion was killed not long after. In any case, Emma is aware of how she came to be, and has expressed curiosity about if perhaps she has any siblings out there. Thus, I need to speak with Molly."

"You are one big pile of secrets, you know that?" Minerva chuckled, amazed at how _much_ her lover knew about just about everyone. "Yet you only use what you know to help… which is part of why I love you so much."

Hermione smiled softly, falling into Minerva's embrace. "Happy Christmas, my love."

The couple were sharing a tender kiss when a throat clearing caused them to jump apart in surprise. "Well, then," Patrick McGonagall said with a smirk. "That certainly explains a few things."

"Patrick…" Minerva began sternly.

"I won't tell a soul," he assured her. "You wouldn't be back here snogging out of sight if it wasn't a grand secret."

"Actually, I think the children are the only ones who don't know," Hermione mused. "Well, I've not told Severus directly, but I imagine he assumes as much. I suppose the same applies to Leland, though Sirius and Helena know for certain."

"Yes, speaking of the Ghost of Ravenclaw Tower," Patrick said, looking confused. "What's she doing here?"

Hermione sighed. "She's my daughter. Hazard of being a woman out of time is your personal history tends to crop up in unusual ways."

"But she's Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter," Patrick argued.

"Yes, she is," Hermione confirmed. "Honestly Patrick, you just caught me snogging your aunt, and your parents are medi wizards. Surely you are aware that two witches can have a child together."

The look on her nephew's face made Minerva laugh out loud. "Why do you look like we've just ruined your appetite?"

"Getting a mental imagine of one's _aunt_ with a penis will do that to a bloke," he muttered, blushing deeply.

"Who says she always tops?" Hermione asked with a wicked grin.

"Oh for the love of Merlin!" the younger McGonagall groaned. "I'm going back to the living room. Have a nice snog."

Just as Patrick left, a Patronus bounded up; a Lynx. " _Forgive the intrusion, but I must request an audience with you,"_ it said. " _Auror Moody was injured on the job and you were listed as his emergency contact. I'm waiting at the gates of Hogwarts, as it seems that McGonagall has the school warded pretty heavily."_

Hermione frowned. "Any idea who this is?"

Minerva nodded. "Kingsley Shacklebolt," she replied. "He's a very skilled wizard, and I'd actually been meaning to mention his name to you at the next Order meeting. He'd make a good recruit. He was a year or two ahead of Harry's parents, I believe. Alastor speaks highly of the man."

"The fact that he's seeking me out directly versus simply letting one of the medi wizards contact me," she muse, "is inspiring some measure of confidence in his loyalties. I hate to do it…"

"But you need to see to Alastor," Minerva finished. "I know. The children will understand."

"Let everyone go ahead and open their gifts," Hermione said with a sad sigh. "I'll try to be back in time to join you for supper."

Minerva placed another soft kiss on Hermione's lips. "Let me at least walk you down to the gate to meet Mister Shacklebolt."

The two were out the door in minutes, Severus, and Sirius promising to mind the children and Dourif promising to make sure Severus and Sirius didn't start dueling each other. Helena decided to walk with Minerva and Hermione down to the gate, And Patrick just waved and told them to be safe. The children, as expected, were disappointed that their guardian had to leave, but were understanding, and notedly excited when they were promised presents upon Minerva and Helena's return.

Shortly after, Hermione and Minerva reached the gate to see a dark skinned and bald man waiting patiently for their arrival. His lack of agitation told Minerva that Alastor was not seriously injured, as Minerva knew that he and Shacklebolt had been friends for some years. "Shacklebolt," she greeted.

"McGonagall," he said in turn, bowing his head slightly. "And you must be Madam Slytherin."

"I am," she replied, offering a curt nod.

"You are Head of the Order of the Phoenix," Kingsley stated.

It was not a question, and Hermione said nothing in reply. She raised an eyebrow at him, silently granting him leave to speak his mind.

"I wish to join," he continued.

"You'd be most welcome," Hermione replied in an even tone. "Though now is not the time to discuss such things. Our mutual friend is deserving of my immediate attention, and after that, I would like to return to my family. We will speak about the Order after the New Year."

He nodded in agreement. "Whenever you are ready, Madam Slytherin."

Hermione bid Minerva goodbye, and a moment later both had transported to St. Mungo's via Portkey, leaving Minerva alone with the ghost of Ravenclaw tower. "Helena," she said. "Shall we rejoin the others?"

"A moment, Headmistress," the young woman asked, pausing. "A question, if I may?"

"Of course," Minerva replied, giving her full attention to the ghost.

"The other children… Harry, Dudley, and Emma," Helena began hesitantly. "You give them leave, as you've become a parent to them, to call you by name…"

Minerva suddenly understand. "Helena, you, of course, are free to call me _Minerva_ if you desire to. Forgive me, but I had thought that was a given."

The ghost's cheeks darkened slightly, as if to show a blush. "None of the other ghosts have such permission," she said. "I did not wish to presume."

"None of the other ghosts are my lover's daughter," the Scottish woman replied with an easy smile. "As far as I'm aware."

"I and Lucy are Hermione's only progeny," Helena assured her. "And Lucy did not become a ghost."

"Have you any idea what became of Lucy?" Minerva inquired, as they began moving back toward the castle. "I know that Hermione has been seeking some answers to that end, but she hasn't mentioned asking you about it."

"We did speak briefly about it, though as I told her, I'm unsure of what became of my elder sister after she remarried," the ghost replied. "However, I've been around long enough to know that nothing remains a mystery forever. I imagine that, especially given Mother's persistence, Lucy's fate will be discovered. I do find it odd, though, that…"

The ghost trailed off, but Minerva's curious nature was not about to let such a leading statement just rest. "What's odd, Helena?"

Pale features showed a twitching jaw, as if she was more than a little upset. "I find it odd that Lucy vanished at all. Like Mother, she was a lover of history, and as such would be the type to want her life to be recorded. She would have, like I did, known that Mother would come to the future and want to learn what became of her child. That Lucy hid herself from history makes me question _why_ she was so keen on doing so. She was, after all, a Slytherin, and would not have erased herself from history as she did without a very good reason. I know Mother wants to know what became of Lucy, but I worry that what she ultimately finds may… that it may be an unpleasant truth. Short of making choices she as certain Mother wouldn't approve of, I just can't fathom another reason that Lucy would have covered her tracks so diligently."

Minerva couldn't argue with Helena's logic, and wondered if Hermione was really prepared to face a potential truth about Lucy which would cause her immeasurable distress. It had been devastating enough to learn that Lucy's son had carried on the Gaunt line, ultimately leading to the birth of Tom Marvolo Riddle, whom they now knew as Lord Voldemort. What if Lucy had been instrumental in steering that family line towards the dark, rather than a happenstance of multiple generations of people who Hermione had no influence over. What if Lucy had turned to evil as a result of her mother's desertion? Could Hermione handle _that_?

"Lucy may have just wanted to separate herself from the stigma of being the daughter of a Founder," Minerva suggested, grasping for straws. "Some people prefer to avoid such attention."

"Had that been the case, she'd have run off years before," Helena countered. "As she must have been more than used to it by the time of her second marriage."

"I'm trying to think positively, Helena," the Scottish witch teased.

The ghost smirked, and Minerva suddenly saw the resemblance between mother and daughter. "Of course you are. You're a Gryffindor."

"Given that your mother was one, you might have been a Gryffindor yourself," the Headmistress pointed out.

"Perish the thought!" Helena chastised with a grin. "Me? A Gryffindor? Don't be nasty, Minerva."

Minerva laughed, and with smiles on their faces the two reentered Hermione's quarters, and were pleasantly surprised to find that Sirius was busy making breakfast, Severus decidedly underfoot trying to inform his rival of how very wrongly he was preparing the omelettes. Dourif was leaning on the kitchen island, making his presence known to the bickering men, while still keeping an eye on the children, who seemed to be examining packages under the Christmas tree, trying to guess the contents of the ones marked for each of them. Patrick was transfiguring the group some more seating around the three, having realized that there was really only seating for five. Given the group of twice that size, more seating was certainly warranted.

"You're back!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up.

"We are," Minerva agreed. "And as soon as we've all eaten breakfast, we'll move on to presents. I somehow think that food will be the last thing on your mind if we do the gift exchange first."

"Likely," Patrick agreed. "I certainly never wanted to eat when there were new books I could be reading instead."

"Books!" Dudley chuckled. "You're obviously a McGonagall!"

Patrick and Minerva both got a laugh out of that, though the latter pointed out that their accuser was pretty fond of reading himself.

"Didn't used to be," Harry teased.

"I didn't used to have books to read that were about dragons and Quidditch!" the other boy argued. "All Vernon ever gave me to read was boring stuff about drills and business."

Emma raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips, reminding Minerva very much of Rosmerta for a moment. "So that _Wizard's Guide to Better Business_ book you've been hiding under your bed boring?"

Dudley scowled. "That's just research. I already know how muggles do business and I was curious how it's different in the muggle world."

"I'd be happy to talk to you about it," Emma said, a little more kindly. "My mum ran a successful business in Hogsmeade, after all, and I did learn a lot from her."

The formerly muggle boy looked at his adoptive little sister with great consideration. "Yeah, that would be nice," he finally said.

Sirius announced breakfast at that moment, and they all tucked in straight away. Steaming omelettes, along with sausage links, pancakes, orange juice and tea made for a fully satisfying meal for all.

"Dudley, if Wizarding business interests you," Severus stated as their meal was winding down, "and you'd like an adult point of view, I am also very versed in the subject. I've been running a Mail Order Potions supply business for the better part of the last two decades."

"Really?" Dudley asked, eyes lighting up. "That would be great, sir!"

Severus sighed, closed his eyes briefly as if trying to reassure himself that he was not about to regret the next words out of his mouth, which made Minerva very interested in what he was going to say. "Dudley… and Harry and Emma," he said after a moment, nodding to each child in turn, "given that your godmother is intent on drawing me into this… _family_ … perhaps it would be… agreeable - _though only outside of class_ \- for you to address me more informally."

All three kids were grinning ear to ear as if those words were the best Christmas gift they could have dreamed of getting. While Minerva knew that the name uttered by them would be _Severus_ from now on, what it would really mean to Dudley, Harry, and Emma would be _dad_ ; something that none of the three had any real experience with. It was something they all wanted, and the Potions master had just agreed to give it to them. More than that, it now meant that the kids had a parent the belonged to all three of them in exactly the same way. While Hermione and Minerva might be mother figures to the kids, Dudley and Emma had both had a mum of their own that they loved, and Harry still clung to the idea that was Lily Evans Potter. None of them really had a father figure that was a consistent part of their lives. Now, they did.

The moment was made perfect by the entry of Hermione, who had apparently made her errand a quick one. "See, Severus," she said with a wide grin. "I told you that you were a nice man."

"Insufferable know-it-all," he replied in a genuinely teasing tone.

"Looks like I didn't even miss the gift exchange," she commented, seeing the still wrapped presents under the tree.

"And we even saved you something to eat," Dourif added, pointing to a fair helping of everything that had been set aside for her on the kitchen counter, warming charm in place to keep it hot and fresh.

"Many thanks," Hermione replied, quickly moving to grab the plate of food. "And I am sorry I had to leave at all."

"We understand," Harry spoke up. "Is Auror Moody alright?"

The boy's godmother nodded. "He will be. They're keeping him overnight, though he insists it's not necessary. Tough old coot."

Dourif rolled his eyes. "They should have just let him go. He'll sneak out during the shift change, mark my words. A practice that he learned, for the record, from me."

The kids laughed, and chatter ensued for the next several minutes as Sirius - all the while singing _God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs_ \- cleared away the mess from their meal, grudgingly accepting Severus' offer to help. Minerva knew that the two men were likely just getting along to prove to each other that _they_ were the better man, both feeling a need to show Hermione that they were worthy of her loyalty. For Sirius, he needed Hermione's loyalty to remain free of Azkaban, and for Severus, the reason was much the same, though he'd not already done time in the Wizarding Prison.

For Severus, his loyalty to Albus had once protected him from the Dementors, but with Albus gone, he'd latched to the person most likely to fill the late Headmaster's role as loyal protector. While Minerva could be that to him, to a point, Severus knew damn well that his new boss would always put Hogwarts before him, whereas Hermione would put him above anything but the children, in which case Severus wouldn't _want_ to be put ahead.

Both men owed Hermione their life and loyalty. In fact, Minerva wondered if Dourif was in a similar situation. Merlin knew he'd been in trouble with the Ministry more times than she could count. If the pity that Hermione had taken on both Sirius and Severus was anything to go by, Minerva could almost - only _almost_ mind you - find it in herself to pity the lonely life that Dourif seemed to have in common with the other two men.

Hermione sighed as she hung her cloak near Minerva's position. "I have about a hundred Owls to write," she whispered. "Moody, Shacklebolt, and four other Aurors were called to the scene of an attack on a young muggleborn's family. They went in thinking that they had the surprise advantage, when it turned out that they were walking into an ambush. Two of the Aurors were dead before they'd had a chance to cast a single spell, and the other two besides Moody and Shacklebolt were injured and also receiving treatment. Shacklebolt was the only of six to walk out of there without major injury."

"Should we be doubting Shacklebolt's loyalties?" Minerva asked in a low tone.

"I suggest as much to Moody but he was adamant that Shacklebolt was trustworthy," Hermione replied with small chuckle. "And if the most paranoid wizard on earth considers someone's character above reproach, then that's good enough for me. Now, do tell the children to go on and open gifts, but I really must be getting on with those Owls. Recruitment cannot wait any longer. I should have been pushing the Order more, but I wanted them to get used to me being the leader over Albus..."

Minerva took her lover's hand. "My dear, recruitment can wait for another few hours. It's Christmas, and it's been a hard year for our children. Don't take the joy of this away from them. They need it, and so do you."

Hermione took a deep breath. "An hour," she compromised. "And then I'll write some Owls while the children mingle and fuss with their new things, and I promise to take a break to join you all for supper."

"Two hours, and I'll help you write the Owls so that you'll be done by supper. Helena and the men can manage the children," the other woman bartered. "Don't make me use my _Professor_ voice."

Hermione laughed. "Well then, _Professor_ McGonagall. I can hardly argue with that. However I'll get Severus to help with the Owls, as he sees the kids in class all the time and as Headmistress, they see you much less."

"Deal," Minerva said quickly, not giving Hermione a chance to amend it any further. "Happy Christmas, my love."

"Happy Christmas, Min," the younger witch said, pressing a soft kiss to her partner's lips before they returned together to their family, both pushing away thoughts of war and giving their full attention to the blessings in their life.

* * *

 **Next time on _Telling Time,_ we learn more about Helena and Lucy! PLEASE REVIEW! **


	45. Chapter 45

**Hello folks! I am now in Pennsylvania, and slowly getting settled in. I'm sure by now you are all itching for a chapter, so while a little on the short side, it full of good stuff, and I hope you enjoy. Look for the A/N at the end to explain a coming plot twist some of you may have seen coming. Till you get there, no spoilers! :D**

* * *

The agreement to tell the kids about their relationship _soon_ came a good deal more quickly than either had anticipated. In fact, it was a mere two nights later when Harry had a nightmare, and for once he'd come to see his godmother, versus Hermione going to his room upon hearing his cries. Harry's nightmare, of course, was the last thing on the boy's mind when he walked into the room to find his godmother, nakedness barely covered by the sheet, and Minerva in a similar state right there in bed with her.

"Um…" he said by way of announcing himself, startling both women. "Hi?"

"Harry?" Hermione muttered sleepily. "What do you…"

Her question was cut short when her voice stirred Minerva, and she realized what exactly Harry had just discovered. "Love?" Minerva muttered.

Hermione pressed a soft kiss to Minerva's lips. "Go back to sleep, Min," she ordered gently, before turning her attention back to her godson. "Harry, if you'd please go to the living room, I'll join you in just a few minutes."

The dark haired teen nodded, fleeing the scene without a word. His expression was one of confusion, not anger, and that gave Hermione some measure of comfort. A quick _tempus_ charm told her it was just before five in the morning, and with a sigh she realized that she was not likely to go back to bed after speaking to Harry. She had so much to do, starting with finishing up the recruitment Owls she'd been working on the evening before. The day's tasks in mind, Hermione went ahead and took a hasty shower to rid her skin of the smell of sex, and dressed in a set of robes appropriate to her plans to go to the Ministry later. Fifteen minutes later, she exited her bedroom to find Harry curled up on the sofa, reading a Potions book he'd gotten from Severus for Christmas. If there was one thing Hermione was most proud of regarding her rearing of Harry Potter, it was that the boy had developed true patience where once there had been not a single glimmer of the life skill in her godson's mind.

"Harry," she greeted, taking a seat beside him.

He put the book down, and turned to face her. "Sorry I woke you," he muttered.

"It's fine, sweetheart," she assured, ruffling his hair. "Nightmare?"

"Yeah," Harry confessed with a sigh. "Though it seems a bit less of a big deal at the moment. You and Minerva? But… Sirius…"

"Is aware of my relationship with Minerva," Hermione assured her godson. "You're familiar with the way purebloods often marry for political reasons, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"Sirius and I married in a similar type of situation. We are friends, but have never had a sexual relationship. I'm involved with Minerva, and last I heard he was seeing someone he knew from when he was an Auror," she explained.

Hermione did not tell Harry who exactly Sirius was seeing for two reasons. Firstly, it really wasn't her place to say. When Sirius was ready to be open about a relationship, that was for him to decide. Secondly, with the complications of Amelia Bones being the woman in his life, and the former lover to Minerva, Hermione wanted to wait until that dynamic was sorted before considering an introduction between her wards and the potentially future Mrs. Black.

Harry's face screwed up at the idea of herself or Sirius having sexual relationships, which made Hermione laugh. "What?" she asked. "Too much information?"

"Yeah, I could have done with ' _Sirius knows, it's not something sordid'_ and that be all," he said. "You didn't have to mention… sex."

"It's not like you didn't already have the image in your mind, Harry," she said pointedly. "You did walk in on Minerva and me."

"Yeah, but you weren't… _doing it_."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, thinking about how while they had both been sleeping when Harry walked in, only a few hours prior they had indeed been enjoying a wonderful lovemaking session. "Not at that moment."

"Ugh!" Harry complained.

"Have you any other questions?"

"About you and Minerva, you mean?" he clarified.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me? And who else already knows?"

Hermione sighed. "With the current political climate, it could be seen as a conflict of interest for the Head of Hogwarts to be in a relationship with the Head of the Order. That's the simplest way to explain it, anyway. We've kept our relationship very under wraps to the general public, though a few of the Order members have guessed. Molly knows. Sirius, obviously. Leland and Severus haven't been told directly but I imagine they've guessed. Minerva's nephew walked in on us sharing a kiss the other day, so he knows. Min's brother Robert also knows, having seen us together at Albus' funeral and guessed. Oh, and Helena knows, of course."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask about that. Why is the Ravenclaw ghost hanging out with us a lot these days?" Harry inquired at the last mention. "Does it have something to do with… er…"

"To do with?" Hermione pressed sternly, knowing Harry hadn't meant to admit he already had a guess, or at least a lead.

"Well, it's just that Emma's friend Ethan overheard his parents talking about you, and saying that you were… well, it's barking mad, I guess, but they were saying that you were there when Hogwarts was being built so it's no surprise that you'd make a good Head of the Order," the boy admitted in a rush.

Hermione searched her memory, and recalled that Ethan was Robert and Samantha Giles' boy. Typical of a Gryffindor, of course he'd eavesdrop on his parents. She'd have to have a conversation with them about privacy spells. She'd not been intending to tell the children about even that much of her past, but it seemed like hiding it that point would just beg them to ask more questions. That was something she was not prepared to deal with, and so at least part of the truth would have to be told.

"I was there, yes," she said quietly. "I cannot stress enough the importance of what I'm about to tell you remaining secret. Order members are only aware of part of this, so I must ask for your oath to keep this to yourself."

"What about Dudley and Emma?"

"I will tell them the same, under the same condition," Hermione replied. "Your oath, Harry."

He pulled out his wand, gripping it tightly and pointing it to his chest. "I swear on my magic I will keep what you tell me about your past a secret."

Hermione nodded, appreciating the broadness of the oath. It would mean that when it came time to tell him the best kept of her secrets, no matter how angry and betrayed he felt, he'd be bound to hold his tongue. "Thank you. Now… I came by my name, _Slytherin_ , as I was married to _Salazar_ Slytherin, all those years ago. I will not explain how I have managed to exist both then and now. During that time, it was not uncommon for people to have relationships with people outside of their marriages. Salazar and I shared a lover - Rowena Ravenclaw. Helena is my daughter with Rowena."

Harry's eyes were wide with shock. "So when you told me about your daughters… _that's_ Helena? And then… Lucy?"

"Was my daughter with Salazar," Hermione confirmed.

"Wow."

"Isn't it just?" she said, smirking.

"Yeah," he grinned. "Why haven't I seen mention of you in books? Binns has talked about the Founders, but you're never mentioned."

"Because we - Salazar, Rowena, Godric, Helga, and myself - always knew that I'd become a woman out of time. I never wanted the fame, so I remained the silent partner. That said, there isn't a person alive who knows more of this castle's secrets than I do."

"I am suddenly really interested in history," Harry grinned, earning a playful smack from his godmother. "So what does the Order know and not know?"

"The Order has been told that I was the wife of Salazar. They do not know about Helena or Lucy. They believe I have lived through the years via having a sorcerer's stone."

"Like Flamel?"

"Yes."

"But that's not the real story."

"You sound so sure," she commented.

"Well, given how we met," he said. "You had that thing… a timeturner. That would be my guess."

"I shall neither confirm nor deny, and I trust you realize your oath prevents you from sharing that theory with anyone," she reminded her godson.

"Yeah, I figured as much. Does anyone know the whole story?"

"A few, but I'll not be telling you who they are. I know you well enough you'll consider them fair game for badgering. In due time, I'll tell you and your siblings the full truth - but not today."

"I can deal with that," he said, letting out a yawn. "On that note…"

"Back to bed with you, son," she agreed. "And I'm off to finish writing some Owls and then I need to go to the Ministry. Minerva will be around if you kids need something while I'm gone. You can tell Dudley and Emma what I just told you, as well as about my relationship with Minerva, though please make certain they each take the same oath you did before sharing. If they have questions I'll make certain I am available for them later this afternoon."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Sleep well, Harry."

He nodded, stifling another yawn as he trod softly back to his bedroom, door clicking quietly behind him.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes before she flicked her wand toward the kitchen, silently casting the spells to get the kettle boiling some water for tea. For the next hour, she wrote Owl after Owl to various people she hoped to either recruit into the Order, or compel to stand down support of Voldemort via invoking the _Lex Excetra_. Both would help undermine the rising dark forces.

Minerva was just coming out of what had somehow become _their_ bedroom when Hermione had begun packing things up to go to the Owlery, and then to the Ministry after that. "Good morning, love," she said softly, pressing a kiss to Minerva's lips.

"Was I dreaming, or did Harry walk in on us a few hours ago?"

Hermione chuckled. "Not dreaming, sorry. I talked to him about us, and he'll tell the others. Likely as soon as they wake up. Even with the nightmare waking him early, he'll still be the first up and ready for the day. According to Sirius, he got that from James. Dudley and Emma are more like you."

"Mornings are evil," Minerva said, dipping her face over her cup of tea. "I don't know how to you wake up so pleasant."

"Sunrise generally puts me in a good mood," the younger woman teased.

"Ugh!"

"I have to go get these to the Owlery," Hermione said with a sigh, picking up the stack. "After which I need to drop into the Ministry."

"Okay."

"Watch the kids?"

"Sure," Minerva grumbled, still sour at the idea of waking up at all.

"Perhaps plant the idea in their heads about moving to some larger quarters now that it's out about the two of us?" Hermione suggested.

The Headmistress let out a small gasp. "Are you asking if I want to move in with you?"

Hermione shrugged. "I guess I am."

"I'd like that," Minerva said, pressing another kiss to her lover's lips. "Really."

"Your brother won't start harping about me making an honest woman out of you, will he?" the younger woman teased.

Minerva laughed. "No, but Molly may."

"Merlin save me!"

After the detour to the Owlery, sending many of the Owls off with multiple letters, Hermione took the passage on the fourth floor, behind the one-eyed witch, to the cellar of Honeydukes. From there, she was outside the wards and simply apparated to a destination near the Ministry of Magic. A brisk walk remained before she was acquiring a visitor's pass, and making her way to the lifts, which transported her a mere ten yards from Amelia Bones' office. Hermione rapped lightly on the ajar door.

Amelia looked up, and frowned. "Madam Slytherin," she greeted. "This is a surprise."

"May I have a few minutes of your time, Amelia?" Hermione questioned softly. "It's not Order related…"

"Whatever I can do to help," the other woman said, ushering her in.

Hermione entered, and closed the door behind her. Amelia set some wards up to ensure no one passing by would hear their conversation, to which the Head of the Order nodded with approval. "It's come to my attention that you are seeing Sirius Black," she finally said, cutting to the chase as she took a seat across the desk from her companion. "And I've been given the impression that it's not just a casual relationship."

"What of it?" Amelia asked, looking defensive. "There's no reason Order members cannot be involved with each other."

"Of course not," Hermione agreed. "And if I made a rule to prohibit it I'd be sleeping on the sofa, as I am also seeing someone in the Order. This is not about anything against members of the Order being involved. It's about your history with my own lover, and a belief that if she is to learn of you being involved with a man she views as a son, then she should hear it from you, not second hand."

Amelia paled. "You're seeing Minerva."

"Yes. I'm the first person she's opened her heart up to since you. You hurt her very badly when you chose to end things, and while I respect that was your decision to make, I think that you owe it to her to tell her to her face that you and Sirius are involved."

"How is this even any of your business?" Amelia asked testily. "All due respect, but this is an issue between Minerva and myself. Even if you are seeing her, it's not your place to tell either of us how to deal with our past."

Hermione straightened in her seat, and glared across the desk. "I am Head of the Order, and as you, Sirius, _and_ Minerva are in the Order, it becomes my business. What do you think would happen if I sent you three on a mission together, and that was the day Minerva found out about you and Sirius? She'd be emotionally compromised and it could get her killed. Or in a less dramatic example, say she finds out second hand, and it creates tension between my ward's godfather and his step-mother in every way that counts? That impacts my family, Amelia. Even if the only thing to come of Minerva finding out about you and Sirius second hand is that she is hurt, it's still something I'd like to avoid because I love her deeply and I do not want to see her hurting if I can help it. So yes, it's my business on multiple fronts. I cannot _order_ you to go speak with her, but I am asking you to. I'm asking you to give Minerva the closure you've denied all these years. If you ever loved her, you'll give her that instead of a new pile of pain to deal with."

Amelia Bones looked thoroughly chastised. "I hadn't realized that she never moved on."

"She's a proud woman, and you know that," Hermione said in a softer tone. "You'd have been the last person she told."

The other woman nodded in agreement. "She is that. I feel a bit like an idiot, that I didn't realize before. Back then, when I made my choice… a part of me was hurt she didn't fight for me. If I'd been less focused on my own pride, I would have realized that she was putting everything she had into just holding it together."

"I wasn't in her life then, and she doesn't like to talk about it, so your guess is likely better than mine could be," the brunette replied.

"How long have you and she…?"

"Just over a year now," Hermione responded. "Though we were friends for a good six months before that, and knew each other in passing for a few years before we became friends. She was… very helpful to me as I processed becoming a widow. Sirius, as you know, is only my husband by a shared desire to get Harry into a healthier living situation - that mongrel is all yours!"

Amelia seemed to know better than to ask about Hermione's past, as all the Order members did, so she refrained from pressing for details. Rather, she directed the conversation back on track. "I will speak with Minerva. Soon."

"Thank you. When you figure out a time that suits, let me know so I can plan on having myself and our children out of your hair. You two deserve your privacy while talking things out," Hermione suggested as she stood to leave.

"I'll Owl you," the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement promised, unwarding the door to her office as she also stood.

Feeling accomplished, the Head of the Order made her way out of the Ministry with a smile on her face. She strolled lazily down the street toward Diagon Alley, intent on purchasing some new quills while she was in London. Hermione had nearly made it to the stoop to enter the Leaky Cauldron when the hair on the back of her neck began standing up, and she whipped around with wand drawn to find herself facing six masked attackers, all bearing wands.

Death Eaters.

"Well these odds aren't great," she muttered under her breath. She was further alarmed when one of the Death Eaters cast a series of wards which she recognized as ones trapping her in a bubble against the wall her back was now against. She only had one avenue of escape at her disposal - into the magical pub - but she knew that Voldemort's followers wouldn't care about innocent bystanders. She could not in good conscience retreat to where unsuspecting patrons would likely become quick and easy prey to her attackers. They wanted her, that much Hermione was keenly aware of, and they wouldn't stop and worry about bystanders.

She absently wondered how they knew she'd be here, now, and hoped she made it out of here alive so she could find out. The anger pulsing through her veins at the idea of a potential betrayal fueled her magic, making a show of angry, red sparks ejecting out of the tip of her wand.

"Professor Slytherin," one of the masked men remarked. "How nice to see you."

She recognized the rough timbre of Fenrir Greyback's voice immediately, having viewed several memories of Remus' in an effort to identify if the ruthless werewolf had been among those who'd tortured Severus when the Potions master had been found out as a spy. "Can't say I'm pleased to see you in the slightest. I _was_ having a good day."

"The Dark Lord grows tired of your efforts to usurp his rise to power. Your connections and influence among purebloods is more than a little infuriating to him," Greyback explained. "A mutual friend of ours - I'm sure you remember Dolores Umbridge - suggested that if you're dead, then the ancient magics of the _Lex Excetra_ will no longer hold."

"Well, I did figure it was a matter of time before someone figured that out," Hermione chuckled. "I'm honestly surprised it took as long as it did. Do you Death Eaters have a single brain between the lot of you?"

She was stalling, and the tensing among the Death Eaters told Hermione that they knew it as well. She was waiting for an idea to spark, or help to stumble along, though she was more hopeful on the first count, if there was any hope to be had at all.

"Enough of this!" another Death Eater roared. "Kill her!"

Spells began hurling at once. It was all she could manage to block all the incoming spells, which hardly allowed her to get off any offensive spells at all, let alone any with enough power to help her. It was nearly a minute into the volley of spells against her shield when the door to the Leaky Cauldron opened and a tall man exited, looking refreshingly British in his tweed suit and fixed frown.

"Bloody hell!" he snapped, raising his hand defensively at once.

To Hermione's great surprise, she felt a strong shield project past herself to block the Death Eaters' attack. She was so surprised at this strong, and remarkably wandless show of magic, that while her wand lowered as the threat lowered, she didn't even think to turn her attention to her attackers.

"Well come on, then!" the man exclaimed. "I'll hold the shield, you knock the buggers out!"

His order brought her out of her stupor, and the Death Eaters were very sorry to see her angry and rearing for attack. Despite still being decidedly outnumbered, she was a skilled duelist and her rescuer seemed able to toss out an odd offensive spell while still holding the shield. It was remarkable magic. It took nearly ten minutes, but the two of them managed to disable all six attackers. As soon as the last of them was unconscious, Hermione sent a Patronus to Annabeth, and then attached portkeys to each Death Eater, sending them directly to the dungeons of Prince Manor. She trusted Annabeth to see to their new guests' needs.

"Now," she said, turning around and facing the man who'd come to her rescue. "Your timing is impeccable, your skill is remarkable, and my eternal thanks is yours. I am Amelia Slytherin. And you are?"

The man blushed a bit as he cleaned his glasses with the corner of his shirt. "Oh, I know who you are. My nephew speaks rather highly of you. My name is Rupert Giles, and it is my pleasure."

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, this is indeed the Rupert Giles from Buffyverse. Those of you who are Buffy fans should enjoy seeing him added to the mix, and for those of you who have not watched Buffy, this is only one character from the series, and it precedes the Buffy series entirely, so you won't get hardly any spoilers for THAT show by seeing him in this story. To Buffy fans: please see my Facebook group for Telling Time for a more detailed explanation for how our beloved Rupert Giles can fit into Potterverse. If you don't use Facebook but do want to hear my reasoning, just PM me and I'll explain there. I'm actually a little shocked no one (that I've noticed) has attempted to do this already.**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	46. Chapter 46

**You'll have to forgive the lack of updates. In the wake of a move cross country my marriage decided to crash, burn, and end. Dealing with all of that has been a wee bit time consuming, and not lent much time or patience for writing. That said, I've not forgotten this story and will strive to update more frequently. This chapter isn't very long, but a lot is happening. Could really use some encouragement about now, folks. Lots of love, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Minerva looked up in surprise when the Gargoyle guarding the Head's office announced there was someone looking for her lover. "The man says he is looking for Professor Slytherin. He was expected to meet her at her quarters but she's not there."

"Of course she's not there, she and the children moved into the Head Tower this weekend," Minerva replied. "I think this is her free period, so if she's not there, she'll likely down by the lake. She said something about needing to chat with the merfolk about something. Ah, well, let the man in."

She regretted that decision a mere minute later when one of her least favorite former students stepped into the office and looked at her in confusion. "Professor McGonagall," he said tersely. "I expected to find Headmaster Dumbledore here."

"He passed away some months ago, Mister Giles," Minerva replied. "I'm surprised you hadn't heard."

"I've been mostly out of the wizarding community for the last fifteen years and change," the older of the Giles brothers replied.

Where Robert had been all Gryffindor and one of Minerva's favorite students, Rupert had been the Ravenclaw who spent most of his time with Slytherins, and more times than she could count had helped the students who would grow up to be Death Eaters get away with their crimes. She had no evidence to support it, and he'd vanished before Voldemort's fall in eighty-one, but Minerva suspected that Rupert had joined ranks with _them_ as well. That in mind, Minerva's wand was out and at the ready.

"You told the Gargoyle you were looking for Professor Slytherin," she said crisply. "Given the trouble you, Rayne, and the others used to get up to, forgive me for inquiring what business you have with her."

Rupert sighed. "Professor, I realize you have no reason to trust me, but I'm not the boy you remember. It took time and more pain than I care to remember, but I did realize how wrong I'd been to join up with the Dark Lord. I didn't come back because frankly, I did not trust myself to use magic properly. I have my wand, but I don't use it much these days. Of course, my father is just thrilled I came 'round soon enough to go to the Watcher Academy. They don't let you in after you've turned twenty-eight, you see. Anyhow, to answer your question, I have no ill will toward Professor Slytherin. We chanced upon each other last week and she asked for me to come here today to talk. I am obligated to do as she wishes."

The word _obligated_ reminded Minerva how old the Giles family was. Rupert, being the oldest child, would have of course been inducted into the _Lex Excetra_ , and that in combination with Rupert's natural talent for wandless magic was a surefire reason for Hermione to add the man to her collection of misfit men. Sirius, Dourif, Severus, Remus, and now Rupert. Just bloody grand.

"Serpent Accord, right?" she asked, rubbing her temples.

"Quite," he agreed. "I was a bit surprised myself, but I know ancient magic better than most. I cannot go against her."

Just then, Hermione entered the office. "OH!" she exclaimed, seeing Rupert. "I'm so sorry, I was just down by the lake. I'd forgotten we were to meet today. Min, you met Rupert, I gather."

"Indeed," Minerva snipped. "Though you neglected to mention meeting _him_ and under what circumstances, so before I throw him into the lake and let the squid eat him, I suggest you explain."

Hermione seemed to suddenly become aware of the tension between the two. "Oh my. For the love of Merlin, Minerva, what did he ever do to you?"

Rupert raised his hand slightly. "Ran with Death Eaters in my youth. More than a few bad choices. My brother was her golden boy and I was the bane of her existence."

"That about sums it up," Minerva agreed tersely.

Before anything else could be said, the door banged open again and Severus Snape stalked in, looking furious and taking no notice of their guest. "Hermione, I demand you allow me to teach the children Occlumency. They are all having nightmares, not just Harry. The brats are bloody covering for each other!"

"My god. Severus," Rupert whispered, causing the Potions master to spin around, jaw slack.

Minerva and Hermione both watched the scene with interest, sensing the tension between the two men and wondering which way things were going to go when the next words were spoken. To both women's surprise, the only word was the sound of Severus tenderly whispering Rupert's name, and the next thing to happen was a nearly pornographic snog between the two men that had the wall of portraits all chattering, and Hermione and Minerva both just observing, bug eyed.

"I thought you were dead," Severus croaked when a need for air forced the men to part.

"I know, I'm sorry, but after Reg… and Randall… I couldn't do it anymore," Rupert muttered. "As Rob was always keen to point out, I was no Gryffindor. So I ran away. I've been living muggle all these years."

"Dumb git," Severus muttered, resting his forehead against Rupert's.

"Blind idiot," the other man replied tenderly, sucking in a deep breath before pulling away.

Minerva surmised the name-calling, given the lack of venom in Severus' normally snappy tone, was some sort of term of endearment thing between the two, though she was decidedly uninterested in the back story at the moment. "Eh-hem," she said, clearing her throat.

Severus and Rupert both turned sharply, and blushed as they each recalled they were not alone. "Forgive the… display," the Potions Master said stiffly.

"Oh, nothing to forgive," Hermione said chipperly. "That was a hell of a thing to witness. I guess I no longer have to worry about how you might react to Harry being less than… straight."

"I will not be giving him any sort of _talk_ ," Severus grunted, sounding unsurprised. "So get that out of your head right now. In any case, speaking of your ward, I was just suggesting the he, Dudley, and Emma, begin Occlumency lessons. I'd been meaning to speak to you about starting Harry on it in any case. Given the nature of the… spell damage from his first encounter with the Dark Lord, Occlumency could help to contain the issue."

Minerva and Hermione both nodded. "I suppose letting you teach all three of them will make Harry feel less singled out," the younger witch sighed. "How about you go ahead and get started with them… grab Leland if you need a hand… and I shall have the conversation with Rupert as we had planned. I'm sure you gentleman can _catch up_ later."

Severus nodded, and turned to offer a glare at Rupert. "If you vanish on me again, I will hunt you down."

"Got it," Rupert agreed, grinning a bit.

"Minerva," the Potions Professor addressed.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Do try and remember that you found it in your heart to forgive me for my past," he said softly. "I trust you can extend the same second chance to Rupert."

Minerva groaned. "If it is that important to you, I will make an effort. I will not, however, be the one to tell Robert about… this."

Now, it was Rupert who let out a groan. "Don't tell me the bloody ponce is in the Order, please."

"Oh yes," Minerva replied, looking thrilled to ruin Rupert's day. "As a matter of fact, he is."

The rest of the Headmistress' day was filled with paperwork, until nearly five in the evening when the Hogwarts' Express arrived, bringing with it the student body returned from the Holiday break. Supper was had in the Great Hall, and in the rush of the evening - including Dudley's mid-term sorting into Slytherin House - Hermione and Minerva didn't have a chance to speak again until they were crawling into bed together that night.

Minerva was pleased that Hermione had agreed to relocate to the Head Tower, and officially move in with her. The children, while now in their respective dorms, had a room each here which was larger than the rooms they'd had in Hermione's old quarters. They each had their own bathroom as well, which was a welcome change so far as the children were concerned, and while Minerva and Hermione were also enjoying a larger bedroom with its own attached bathroom, the couple agreed that the best part about the move was simply the much improved living space. It was called the Head _Tower_ for a reason, of course, so the price of more space involved their quarters being split between several levels.

The entrance to the quarters was, like the Head's office, accessible via the spiral stairs beyond the Gargoyle guard with its own password, which would simply move the turning staircase another two levels upward. The level between the office and the main living area was a large library, which could be accessed via both the office and the living space. The library level also boasted of two private studies meant for a Head of Hogwarts and their spouse, but as Minerva had no real need of office space beyond the actual Head's Office, Hermione had opted to turn the spare office into a small Potions lab. The children could use it for their studies eventually if any of them chose to go to the NEWT levels for Severus' class, and in the meantime Hermione generally preferred to make certain potions on her own, even if she did have one of the world's best Potions Masters at her beck and call.

The main level of their living space included both a sitting area with a fireplace and a decently sized kitchen and dining area. There was a small study off the sitting area which Hermione had decided could be utilized by the children during their private lessons with Severus, Dourif, and whomever else the younger witch deemed worthy of teaching the children down the road. Harry, Dudley, and Emma were appreciative of this setup as it meant that they were afforded a bit more privacy in their personal rooms. Minerva had simply reminded the trio that not having to clean up before tutoring did not mean their bedrooms could be left untidy. House Elves would take care of some of the cleaning, but Hermione and Minerva agreed that the children all needed to be responsible for at least some of the cleanliness of their rooms.

The level above the general living space was home to the boys' rooms, and the level above that was Emma's room, and the Master Suite. Above that was the final level of the Head tower, featuring a large balcony with two storage areas; one obviously designed to keep brooms and such things, and the other more for general this and that, and was the size of a small room. Minerva had overheard the children discussing turning it into more of a clubhouse, as there was more than enough space in the rest of the Head Tower for random storage, and the muggle-raised boys thought a secret fort was a very good idea. Emma, of course, shot a stinging hex at the boys for suggesting she wouldn't be interested because she was a girl. Minerva and Hermione had agreed to not bothering putting anything in the small room, and to go ahead and pretend they knew nothing of the trio's plans for the space. Let them have their fun.

Minerva and Hermione had just pulled the covers over themselves, all tucked in, when a Patronus bounded into their room. Hermione quickly identified the misty mockingbird. "That's Evelyn."

"Chancellor?" Minerva asked, though the both recognized the voice that began speaking a moment later, confirming the Headmistress' supposition.

"Forgive the late hour, Hermione," Evelyn apologized. "But if at all possible I think you and Minerva ought to come over to Prince Manor. I have news, but on the off chance you're in mixed company, I will not relay it remotely. Annabeth and I will be waiting."

Minerva groaned, and flipped the covers back off. "This had better be important."

Hermione sighed. "I'll help you hex them both if it's not of end-of-the-world importance."

The two women grudgingly crawled out of bed, quickly dressed, and went down to the main level of their quarters to access their personal Floo. Less than fifteen minutes after receiving Evelyn's Patronus, the Head of Hogwarts and the Head of the Order were stepping out of the fireplace and into the foyer of Prince Manor. To their surprise, in addition to being greeted by Annabeth and Evelyn, a disgruntled looking Severus was also there. "Finally," the dour man sniped. "Now out with it, you two, so I can get back to Hogwarts and back into my surprisingly unempty bed."

"A lover, Severus?" Annabeth asked her nephew, looking surprised. "Merlin knows you could certainly do to get laid, but I wasn't aware you were seeing someone."

"Old flame," he muttered, a light blush forming on his cheeks.

"Rupert Giles," Minerva informed the Prince matriarch tersely, knowing that Annabeth was well aware of who the man was.

"Ohhh…" Annabeth said, eyes glinting. "I simply must be there when Robert learns his brother is back in town."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As much as the drama between the Giles brothers is amusing to the lot of you, it is not what I crawled out of bed to discuss. It's been a long day. Evelyn, you said you had news."

The Head of the Department of Mysteries nodded. "The Minister called a session with Department Heads a couple of hours ago. Moody would have brought the news to you directly, but Fudge had him placed in a cell for the night, per his decided fury at the Minister's intention of covering this up - there has been a breakout at Azkaban. Amelia tried to keep him in line - she's still there trying to get him out the legal way before we have to resort to the less than legal way."

Hermione drew a sharp breath. "How many?"

"All of them," Evelyn whispered. "One guard survived the attack and was able to report that Voldemort himself was there and went cell to cell offering freedom to any prisoner who agreed to join his ranks on the spot. Just like when he started before, he's giving them the Mark of Eyghon to start with, which we already know is merely a branding taken until a first kill by his agents earns them the Dark Mark. The guard died at St. Mungo's less than half hour after arriving there this evening."

"Do we have a number?" Minerva inquired.

"Three hundred and ninety-four," Annabeth supplied. "As soon as Evelyn got here I called in a favor and got the roster, so at least we have names."

"Big favor," Severus recognized. "That information is only available to a handful of people at the top of the Ministry."

"Sometimes it pays to play nice with the purebloods, dear nephew. A lesson your mother never did understand."

"Children," Hermione said tiredly, seeing Severus rear toward his aunt. "Please play nice…"

It was almost three weeks later before they were able to pull together an actual Order meeting with everyone that they needed to be there, including the newest recruit, Doctor Janet Hammond - the Head of St. Mungo's who had come seeking the Order out an hour after Fudge had threatened to have her American husband deported should she so much as whisper about what she'd heard while treating that survivor from the Azkaban breakout. Her response had been to first get her husband George on the first portkey back to his hometown in Texas, until she could make contact with the Order and arrange for their joint safety while they remained in Britain to help in the fight against Voldemort. Minerva had taken an immediate liking to Doctor Hammond, a former Gryffindor who she did remember teaching in her early Professorship. The then-girl had arrived for her first year when her American parents had taken jobs in London, and she'd remained at Hogwarts long enough to sit her OWLs, though she and her family had then returned to America where Minerva presumed she'd finished her education, including her medi-witch training.

Alastor Moody was there representing Amelia Bones as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, having been released from the Ministry lockup. As appropriate as her attendance would be, she felt she was being closely watched by Fudge at the moment, and Hermione agreed it wasn't worth the risk of exposing even the hint that the Order met at Prince Manor - a Manor which until quite recently had been too big to miss, and was now under the Fidelius Charm. Even if Voldemort and the Ministry couldn't find the place anymore, it was no secret where the place had once been, and Annabeth was not quite ready to have her entire life turned upside down by painting a target on her pretty backside. Evelyn, of course, represented the Department of Mysteries alongside her friend and coworker Robert Giles. Robert was expected to arrive shortly, though he was one of the last they were waiting on.

Minerva allowed herself a smirk as she glanced over to where Severus and _Rupert_ Giles were already standing. Severus was here per his knowledge of the inner workings of Voldemort's methods, and Hermione had insisted that Rupert attend if for no other reason than because he still bore the Mark of Eyghon, having never committed the murder that would have allowed him to cast that mark away and take the Dark Mark in its place. He would have insight on how budding Death Eaters were expected to select victims, which was a gap in Severus' knowledge as he'd been one of select few who'd never had it - taking the Dark Mark immediately. Minerva absently wondered what her friend had done to earn such a privilege. While she'd been content to just _wonder_ , Severus had apparently been peeking around in her head at that moment, and strode over to where she stood, offering an answer by way of greeting.

"While you have the Mark of Eyghon, there's still a chance to get away from the Dark Lord," he said softly. "Much as Rupert and his friend Ethan Rayne did. At the time I was recruited, Voldemort was desperate for a Potions master, and while I'd not yet completed my mastery, I showed too much potential for him to risk letting me think twice about to whom I'd pledged service. The Dark Mark was insurance that I would not stray."

"Makes sense," Minerva commented. "Though really, Severus, the snooping is ungentlemanly."

"I was trying to get an idea of where you were at with Rupert," he shrugged.

"He's here and I'm not throwing a fit," she replied with a huff. "He's getting his second chance. Forgive me if I get a minor thrill out of the impending reunion with his brother. Call it karma for how many uncomfortable positions he put me in over the years."

Severus smirked. "So _that's_ it, is it? You're not still salty over his choices overall. You're just holding a grudge because he banished your robes in class that day - sixth year, I think."

"And sold the pensieve memory to anyone who _wasn't_ there who had the gold to burn. Potter and Black were _insufferable_ for months after that stunt," she scowled. "I still go to classes with sticking charms on my inner robes. Scarred for life!"

"You Gryffindors and your grudges," Severus muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Like you Slytherins are much better!" she laughed. "Pot, meet kettle."

The banter between them might have continued if not for the arrival of Robert, who at this point _was_ the last of twenty odd members to arrive, signaled by an infuriated yell.

"What the bloody hell are YOU doing here?"

"Now, Rob, if you'd just calm down…" Rupert tried.

"CALM DOWN?" the younger brother raged. "Madam Slytherin you cannot expect me to work with HIM!"

"DON'T BE SUCH A LITTLE PRICK!" Rupert shouted back, losing his temper.

"Robert," Hermione stated softly. "I have asked him to join the Order because I believe he can be of great help. Being the elder son, the Lex Excetra which binds your family to me falls on Rupert as much as it does you. Unless you'd prefer to be rendered impotent by way of demanding that he defy my wish for him to be here, then I strongly suggest that you _both_ mind - your - tongues."

The last three words were said a bit louder, and with an icy tone that Minerva had heard Hermione use on the children when she was especially upset with them. It demanded obedience, and Minerva felt a mixture of amusement and disappointment when both Giles brothers stuck out their hands a moment later with low mutterings of a truce for the sake of the Order, shaking on it before sulking to opposite ends of the room.

"Now," Hermione said, clearing her throat and gaining the attention of the entire room. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	47. Chapter 47

**Sorry for the long delay in updates - been a bit hectic in my life of late, though I believe, finally, things are winding down to a point I can begin to put more focus back on Telling Time, and the Lost Founder series in general. Part of the delay, honestly, has been the process of trying to nail down plot points for parts two and three of this saga. At this point, there are only six remaining chapters for part one, and as such any plot points I need to lead into part two need to be considered as I write these final few chapters of Telling Time. Hope you all enjoy a nice, long chapter.**

 **A/N - to the guest reviewer who hoped I would return to "save the world", that was by far the most epic review I have ever received, and as such, this chapter is dedicated directly to you! Sign in next time, so I can properly credit your genius! :P**

* * *

It was Valentine's Day, and while the students in the castle were acting every definition of twitterpated as they awkwardly tried finding dates for the Hogsmeade weekend coming up in a few days, Minerva brushed off the mundane annoyance of Hogwarts life with the knowledge that she and Hermione were planning on spending the evening together. It was a year today since they'd officially become a couple on the moss covered ground of the caverns below the castle, and having recently moved in together, the Headmistress decided that today was more than worth celebrating. The children would be in their dorms tonight, as it was only Wednesday. There was no Order meeting scheduled, and with a little luck they wouldn't have an interruption like they had on Christmas.

Actually, Minerva mused to herself, if she got Filius on alert to handle Hogwarts business for the evening, and providing Severus didn't have plans with Rupert, she could have Order business deferred to him, there might actually be a chance of having an evening without disruption. For that matter, she could ask Patrick to manage Hermione's Head of Gryffindor duties, and anything else that came up with the children.

"I'm sure Patrick remembers my definition of _emergency_ ," Minerva muttered to herself.

"Massive blood loss or head injury during which one has no means to seek medical attention on one's own. Or death," the man in question answered, standing in her doorway, grinning. "How could I forget that one?"

Minerva pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. "Well, there was that time that you and Bill Weasley decided to break into the Restricted Section of the Library…"

"Hey, that was not my fault!" Patrick objected. "It was his idea!"

"You were a sixth year. He was a second year. I don't care whose idea it was, the fact remains that you were several years older and a prefect, and knew better. You were both lucky that you opened a book on slicing hexes and not one on the subject of disembowelment!"

Patrick shrugged. "Well, in any case, we managed just fine."

"You were both still bleeding profusely by the time Irma found you an hour later," she said pointedly, rolling her eyes.

"I knew you'd be mad…" he tried to reason as to why he'd not just come right to her. The various cuts on he and Bill that night certainly qualified as an emergency.

"I was angry, Patrick," Minerva agreed. "But not because you were out of bounds. I was mad because not had Irma not found you two, you might have died. I was mad because you had an emergency and you knew I'd be there to help you, and yet you chose not to get help that was sorely needed. Remember that when you become a father."

"Actually, Aunt Minerva… on a slightly related note…"

The Headmistress looked sharply at her nephew. "You didn't…"

"I did not get some poor young witch pregnant, so hold up on that stroke for now!" he said quickly. He'd heard the horror story of the announcement of his own conception more than a few times, and knew exactly how poorly the McGonagalls had reacted to their unwed son's predicament. Of course, his mum's parents hadn't been thrilled either, and both sets of Patrick's grandparents had insisted the two wed quickly. Fortunately, it had worked out for Malcolm and Jacqueline McGonagall and they were still very happy with each other. While none of the McGonagall siblings really held to their parents belief in that regard, the reflex reaction what such things came up was still somewhat present.

"What then?" she asked, calming down.

"I'm seeing someone. Have been for a while now, and if things keep going well, I mean to propose this summer," he confessed. "Mum and Dad don't really like her much, but I'm hoping that you and Uncle Robert will and as such make her less… afraid of joining the McGonagall clan."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Your parents… are prats. I'm sure she's lovely and of course I'll do what I can to make her feel welcome to join the family. That said, who's the lucky woman?"

"Dora Tonks," he said, grinning.

Minerva groaned, knowing the young woman in question quite well already and seeing exactly why Mal and Jackie were turning their noses up. They were both very proper and socially refined people, and Tonks, well… Tonks wasn't. Smart, yes. Pretty, certainly. She even had a reasonably acceptable bloodline if Minerva's parents were still around to make note of it. It had been two centuries since a McGonagall and a Black had united in matrimony, which Minerva appreciated as it spared Patrick's future offspring the myriad of genetic problems that were common when too much intermarrying was done.

"I imagine your father had a disparaging thing or two to say about the Blacks," she commented.

"Well, bugger him."

Minerva nodded in agreement. "I can't speak for your Uncle Robert, but I expect he'll be supportive as well. That said, while Andromeda did break tradition with her family by marrying Ted, she is still very convicted about certain things. I'd strongly suggest you gain permission from Dora's parents before proposing. Andromeda may or may not desire you to also seek permission from Sirius Black, as he is the current head of the Black House. If she does and Sirius decides to be an arse, let Hermione know and she'll take care of him."

"Thanks Aunt Minerva," he nephew sighed, obviously relieved. "I really wasn't planning on settling down, ever, but Dora… she's my world."

"I know the feeling," Minerva agreed, thinking about how, after Amelia, she'd told herself she'd never love again. Then, Hermione had stormed into her life and Minerva wouldn't have it any other way.

"Well, I was just heading back to my quarters to finish some marking for Hermione," Patrick said, straightening. "Was there anything you needed done?"

"Hermione are long overdue some private time, and I'm planning a romantic evening in with her. I'm going to have Filius manage general Hogwarts things, and have Order business routed to Severus, providing he doesn't have other plans. Can you manage Gryffindor Tower for Hermione tonight, or do you and Dora also have a romantic evening planned?"

"We're doing something this weekend - she's stationed in Hogsmeade and can't get away tonight," he replied. "I can take the Tower. Shall I assume I've also got your kids for the night, barring emergency?"

"Can you remember what an emergency qualifies as, this time?" she teased her nephew.

"You got it. Lots of blood or head injury. Also death. Otherwise don't call you," he dutifully listed.

The shared a hug before he headed toward three different dorms to inform Harry, Dudley, and Emma that should they need anything this evening of the urgent sort, to come to him. In the case of Gryffindor Tower, he'd inform all the students to come to him for the night, not just Harry.

For Minerva's part, she headed toward Filius' office first, knowing that Severus would be very shortly starting his Occlumency lesson with the children, and not wanting to disrupt. It was only quarter till seven now, and Minerva knew that Hermione wouldn't be back in the castle till eight-thirty. She'd not said specifically why she was stepping out in the first place, but Minerva imagined it was Order related. Hopefully, nothing she found while out would get in the way of Minerva's planned romantic evening.

She took an easy pace toward her Deputy's office, stopping along the way to talk to two Seventh Year boys - a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw - who were rowing over the fact that each boy had asked a Hufflepuff in their year out for Valentine's Day. The girl had evidently turned them both down, and the boys were determined to blame each other for their respective inability to _get the girl_. The truth of the matter, as Minerva kindly informed them, was that the girl had gotten married to a Slytherin boy who'd graduated the year before, directly after turning seventeen several months ago. The boys, Maxwell Perks and Quinn Ruehl, had been wide eyed and open mouthed at the notion that the girl they each liked favored any Slytherin at all, much less the elder of the Zabini brothers. Wyatt had been notably disowned last year, though only a few knew that the reason was his desire to marry the Hufflepuff, Ophelia. Wyatt and Ophelia Zabini would both be inducted into the Order upon her graduation in less than four months.

Hermione actually had Misters Perks and Ruehl on her list of young people to approach about joining the Order as well, though they wouldn't be asked until after they'd graduated. The only reason Wyatt wasn't already a member was because he'd refused to do so without his wife, and Hermione had refused to induct anyone who wasn't already graduated. Minerva shuddered to think of how the four young people might deal with seeing one another at meetings. She expected the boys to act their age and cause at least one scene, though she also knew young Ophelia well enough to know that she'd easily put them all in their respective places with relative ease. She was quite the spitfire, for a Hufflepuff. Minerva imagined it had something to do with the girl's Gryffindor uncle, Thomas McKinnon, who had been left to raise his niece after his sister-in-law and brother had been killed in the first war. Thomas had been among the most recent recruits to the Order; while initially the bachelor had vowed to stay out of things this time around, when Ophelia had informed him that she meant to join, Thomas had followed suit in short order.

With a sigh, Minerva ordered the boys back to their respective dorms, and she finished the walk toward Filius' office. "Filius?" she called, letting herself in. "Are you still here?"

"You nearly missed me," he replied. "I was just collecting my things. What can I do for you, Minerva?"

The Headmistress laughed. "Oh, just mind a castle full of hormonal teenagers for the rest of the evening so I can pull off a romantic evening with my partner?"

He chuckled. "Is that all?"

"Well, I had been thinking that it was a small favor, but then I ran into two boys arguing over the most clearly taken girl in the seventh year class, and I was reminded what day it is and how prone to outbursts adolescents are."

"Ophelia McKinnon?" he asked, understanding her reference. "Which boys, other than Wyatt Zabini, are so interested in her?"

"Maxwell Perks and Quinn Ruehl," she shared. "I ran into them just up the corridor and they were on the verge of drawing wands. I really am getting too old for this nonsense…"

Her Deputy snorted. "You should have thought of that before you became a step-parent of three. It's a bit along the lines of shutting the door after the Hippogriff has bolted."

"You're telling me!" she agreed with a groan. "On the upside, Harry, Dudley, and Emma all have good heads on their shoulders. And as Harry seems to be gay, he and Dudley won't end up rowing over girls."

"With your luck, one of the other two will end up gay as well, and you'll be back to square one," Filius reasoned with a smirk.

"Perish the thought! In any case, I imagine that they'll manage through civilly. Despite Harry and Dudley's unpleasant background, and Emma's lack of any real connection to the boys, the three have grown quite close. That said, I will have my wand at the ready when Misters Perks and Ruehl decide to join the Order and learn after the fact that it will mean working closely with the young Mr. and Mrs. Zabini," she commented.

"Why not warn Perks and Ruehl ahead of time?" Filius inquired. "Tell them to expect seeing Wyatt and Ophelia, and give them that chance to opt out of joining the Order?"

"Firstly, because while I hate putting young people in the line of fire, the Order needs members," she replied. "And secondly, because I'd really rather not create two new Severus Snapes - scorned by love and gone to Voldemort in retaliation. Once they're in the Order they are less likely to turncoat, per the extensive warding and charms that Hermione has woven into the member contract. Albus was far more trusting than my lovely partner is. Where he hoped people would be loyal to the cause, she makes certain they will be. On one hand I call her methods archaic and brutal, but on the other hand, I remember how many people died in the first war because of Albus' tendency to trust in emotionally compromised people."

"Has Hermione been approaching other staff members about joining the Order?" Filius inquired. "I know Albus didn't want all of us linked to the Order because, if brought down, it would leave Hogwarts defenseless, but with you and Hermione being decidedly joined at the hip, Hogwarts and the Order are effectively one unit."

Minerva nodded. "We've discussed it, and agreed to speak to the staff once term lets out, and for those who do not wish to join the Order, they will be let out of their teaching contracts with a severance. I'd not hold leaving against any of them, though Merlin knows we could use any wand we can get. Of the existing Order members, there are a fair few with Masteries, so if replacements need to be found, we'll try and fill those positions with Order members. If possible I want to avoid having to include the question of ' _Will you join the Order of the Phoenix and assist in the fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as part of your teaching contract?'_ as part of the interview process."

"That would be awkward," he agreed with a small smile. "Though if you're having a hard time filling empty positions, do let me know. I've got some contacts who would make good Order members, and good teachers, should you have need. Most of them owe me large favors."

"I'll keep that in mind," Minerva promised.

"Now that we've cycled back to Hogwarts' business," her Deputy sighed, picking his satchel off his desk, "yes, I'll mind the castle for the evening. Now, I expect you still have some things to get together before Hermione gets back. Off with you, my friend."

"You're a life saver."

"Love life saver, at least," he chuckled.

The pair bid each other a good evening and Minerva began to make her way toward Severus' office. He would still be working with the kids, but the Occlumency lesson should be winding down by now. This time, she was able to get from point A to point B without getting waylaid by bickering students, and just as she had when going to see Filius, she didn't bother knocking on the door before she let herself in.

She walked in just in time to see Harry collapse on the floor, panting. His eyes remained downward, and he was shaking; every inch of his body spoke of fear and defeat. "Please don't give me a hard time for how I feel about Ron," he requested softly.

Minerva took a guess that Severus had stumbled on a memory in which Harry and Ron were kissing. Hopefully kissing. Hopefully _not_ anything other than kissing. Actually, perhaps it was time to get someone to give the boys and Emma a talk about sexuality and protective charms.

"Why would I do that?" Severus asked after a moment, looking unusually considerate of Harry's feelings. "I've been with men myself."

"Recently, in fact," Minerva added with an eye roll as she thought of Rupert.

"Really?" Harry asked, looking up at Severus, and then at Minerva, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"I'm sure you'll meet...my lover, at some point," the Potions Master offered, sparing a moment to glare at Minerva.

"That's great," Harry said quietly, obviously still a bit uncomfortable with the present topic of conversation.

The shuffle of feet on the other side of the room - Dudley and Emma - gave Minerva a clue as to why. While Severus had voiced his acceptance, perhaps even support, Harry's surrogate brother and sister had yet to say a word. Silence filled the room for nearly a full minute before Dudley sighed, and took the few short steps to where Harry was still kneeling on the ground.

He offered his hand, and helped his brother up, grinning a little as he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Well, I guess I don't need to worry about us fighting over some girl," he said. "Good on you, Harry."

"Thanks, Dud," Harry said genuinely. "Emma, are you… alright with me and Ron being… together? I understand if not but…"

"Don't be stupid, Harry," she said, outright laughing. "My mum had girlfriends from time to time, and I'm not honestly turned off by the idea of being with another girl. Not right now, but…"

"In thirty years!" Severus yelped, causing all three children and Minerva to break out in hysterics. Even the dour man joined in after a moment, and for the first time Minerva truly felt like they, all of them, were a family. Hermione would be sorry to have missed this moment.

"I think that's enough for today," Minerva said as the mirth started to mellow. "Unless you still need to dole out homework, Severus?"

"Nothing outside of the usual," he said, looking at the trio. "Keep working on meditation, and read chapter six in the book I gave you. We'll discuss it next week."

Harry, Dudley, and Emma all gave hugs to Severus and Minerva each before heading off toward their respective common rooms. Minerva closed the door behind them, causing her remaining companion to raise his eyebrow.

"I need a favor," she said without preamble.

"Obviously a big one," he concluded, "As you'd not have come all the way down here if it was something small."

"Well…"

"Yes, you can defer Order business to me for the evening," Severus cut her off.

"How did you know that's what I wanted to ask?" she inquired, impressed.

"There are only two things important enough to you that you'd come all the way down to the dungeons to speak with me about. The first is Hogwarts. The second is Hermione. Given that it is St. Valentine's Day and you and the Head of the Order are joined at the proverbial hip, one assumes that you'd be trying to sort out a romantic evening, and not wish for that evening to be disrupted. You've likely already spoken to Filius about covering Hogwarts, and with that whelp you call a nephew about covering Hermione's Head of Gryffindor duties, the only thing left to cover is Order business. Since you yourself cannot as you will be equally as occupied as your lover, and as you would ask Leland to help over your dead body, then logically I would be next in line among those that both you and she would trust to see to anything that might come up concerning the Order."

"Why weren't you in Ravenclaw, again?" she asked, teasing.

"I hate the color blue," he deadpanned. "And every Prince in the last three hundred years have gone to Slytherin. You've met my dear Aunt. Need I say more?"

"You're right, Severus," she said seriously, though she was resisting the urge to crack a smile. "Blue is a terrible color."

The Head of Slytherin House bid her a goodnight, and Minerva was shortly after heading in the direction of the Head Tower. It was just after eight now, so by the time she got there she'd only have a quarter of an hour to get things sorted before Hermione was due home. At exactly eight thirty, the Headmistress was taking a seat in her office at the base of the Head Tower, knowing that Hermione was due in anytime now, and would look for her here first. Minerva had eaten a light evening meal, same as Hermione, having agreed that they'd have dinner together after the latter returned from London. Dinner, mind you, was part of Minerva's plan to romance her lover but not the whole of what she'd prepared as a Valentine's surprise.

While she waited for Hermione, Minerva idly scribbled some notes on a bit of parchment of things she needed to do before the weekend arrived, though her heart was decidedly not in the task. While the Scottish witch knew that Hermione could take care of herself, it still worried Minerva when she was gone, and beyond that, there was a bit of insecurity nagging at Minerva that Hermione would not be pleased by her meddling - the shifting of duties - in an effort to provide some alone time for the couple. Hermione was so damned independent, and the very definition of responsible. Romance had rarely been present in the evolution of their relationship, and for all Minerva knew, Hermione didn't even like that sort of thing. One day, Hermione had been nothing but a gifted pupil, and the next she'd been this full grown, highly attractive woman, matching Minerva's tastes physically, mentally, and emotionally.

She hadn't known that day, nearly two years ago, that she was meeting the love of her life, but she certainly knew it now. On this day, last year, they'd made love for the first time. Then, it had been in the caverns which had been a hideaway for Hermione, Salazar, and Rowena, and as special as that night had been, Minerva wanted tonight to be moreso. Tonight, she didn't want Hermione to think of the past, or even the near future. She wanted Hermione to be utterly captivated by the idea that there was life beyond the coming war, and she wanted to show Hermione that she was committed to surviving for the sake of seeing that future come to pass.

A creak of her office door snapped Minerva out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see Hermione stepping into the room. "You look decidedly pleased with yourself," she commented. "Productive evening?"

"I invoked the Lex Excetra with the Zabinis, which should help Wyatt out a bit in his desire to mend fences with his family and get them to accept that Ophelia is their daughter-in-law, like it or not. Of course, they've still got Blaise to carry on the family line even if they don't rescind the disownment, but given that I didn't want Voldemort to get his hands on the Zabini money at all, I figured that I could go ahead with speaking to them before Wyatt had a chance to get bitter the way that Sirius did," Hermione explained. "After that, I went and spoke with Garrick Ollivander, Darsie Eeylop, and Miranda Malkin about joining the Order. All three agreed readily. I'd call that productive."

"I'd say!" Minerva agreed supportively. "Did you manage to work up an appetite?"

"Certainly getting there," Hermione reported. "Though knowing you while I said I'd be back at eight-thirty, you didn't plan for supper till a little after nine, anticipating I might be late."

"You know me too well," the Scottish witch chuckled.

"I also imagine that, knowing I am very seldom late without sending word, that you have some sort of plan for how we might occupy our time until supper is ready," the other woman added.

Minerva stood and walked over to her lover, capturing Hermione's lips in response. The other witch's mouth parted slightly, inviting a battle of tongues as hands wandered contentedly over their clothed bodies. "Hmmm," the Headmistress muttered as the portraits in her office began chattering about what they considered great entertainment. "How about we head upstairs? Patrick is minding Gryffindor Tower, Filius is on alert to handle anything Hogwarts related, Severus is taking care of anything to do with the Order, if anything comes up at all, and the children know to go to Patrick or Severus if they need something. The evening is ours, my love."

"Gods," Hermione moaned, relaxing into Minerva's arms. "How long has it been since we had some quiet time, just us?"

"Not since right after Christmas," the other witch replied. "Thus my organizing a date night. I hope you don't mind."

"Not in the slightest!"

"Let's go up through the Library," the Headmistress suggested lightly, hoping not to arouse suspicion.

"Alright," Hermione agreed, taking her lover's hand.

The pair made for the flight of stairs leading from the Head's Office to the Library level of the tower, and Minerva let out a small sigh of relief when Hermione saw the enchantments that she'd set up and her trademark Cheshire grin made an appearance on her face. With so much on Hermione's plate these days, it was rare to see her smile, and rarer yet to see her smile like this. The bright, toothy smile that Minerva had once noted on young Hermione _Granger's_ face with a affection now gave way to a much deeper feeling, seeing in the stoic Hermione _Slytherin's_ features. "Oh, Min…"

The pair walked up the first flight of stairs, through the Library, and then up the second staircase they led into the main living area of their quarters. What was usually two, dreary stone passages upward, and a simple path through between rows of bookshelves was at present a canopy of floating red rose petals, with thousands of fireflies flitting about and giving a warm glow. Their path was lit further with candles on every step, and candles across the library, each one snuffing out of their own accord as the couple moved past a given point. Hermione was transfixed by the whole scene, not even stopping to worry about the candles so near to the books, which really was a testament of how other-worldly a setup Minerva had managed to scrape together. She'd known neither of them could really afford to get away, so she'd brought the _away_ to them.

When they reached the top of the stairs that opened into their main living area, the charm that had conjured the rose petals and the lightning bugs canceled itself as the pair kicked off their shoes and stepped onto a blanket of rose petals that were currently carpeting the floor in front of them. Large candles rested, lit, on the dining room table, leading the way toward the next staircase, and on the coffee tables and the fireplace mantle, illuminating their cozy living area. On the floor in front of the crackling fireplace was a large mattress, covered only in an oversized sheet of cream silk which begged to be gripped tightly in the throes of passion.

Hermione wasted no time at all dropping her cloak to the floor and beginning to undress, eyeing Minerva hungrily as the Scottish woman did much the same. Clad only in undergarments, the couple collapsed onto the soft mattress, Hermione on her back and Minerva sliding her lithe form gently on top of her bedfellow. "Beautiful…" the younger woman purred, and Minerva had no real idea if she'd meant the flowers, the bed, or herself. She supposed it didn't matter, as the memory of Hermione's content face burned into her retinas. She'd not seen Hermione this relaxed, ever; not before or since her travels through time. Right here, right now, it was just them. The outside world could hang for the evening.

Minerva felt a light thrust of Hermione's hips, urging her partner to meet her movements and begin the dance as old as time. Slowly, the Scottish woman slid her hand down Hermione's jaw line, around the curve of her breast, along tight stomach muscles, and then between parting thighs. She firmly cupped her partner's sex, adding extra pressure from her middle finger to dip into the fabric covered fold and across a hardening clit.

"Hmmm…" Hermione softly moaned, grinding eagerly into Minerva's touch. "Need you, Min…"

Wandless and silently, Minerva banished what little remained on their bodies, bras and knickers landing in a neat pile on one of the sofas, next to the silk robes the Headmistress had laid out for them an hour before. Undergarments gone, Minerva's head dipped to catch a dusty-pink colored nipple between her teeth. Hermione's chest heaved, pressing the breast into Minerva's mouth. As Minerva began to suckle, Hermione's hands moved; one into her partner's hair and the other pinching at the unattended breast. Her hips continued to move against Minerva's still hand, fluid beginning to spread against the sensitive flesh. Minerva's free hand clawed against Hermione's side, causing the younger woman to cry out as arousal continued to build.

"That's it…" Minerva purred, fingernails digging into Hermione's hip.

"Please!" Hermione gasped out, body shaking in anticipation. "Plea..please…"

Slowly, Minerva's middle finger dipped into Hermione's wet core, clenched tightly against the quaking, silk walls. The other woman moaned loudly as she was penetrated, and lowly as Minerva pulled her finger out. Again, this time with two fingers moving quick and hard, Minerva thrust inside.

The jolt through Hermione over the edge with a strangled cry. "Gods!"

They continued to make love there in front of the firelight for a time, eventually finding need of rest at which point they wrapped themselves in the silk robes Minerva had laid out, and made their way up to the Observation level of the Head Tower. There, they had a quiet, romantic dinner without a single interruption, talking of their hopes for the future. The past was not spoken of, nor was the future of the wizarding world on a whole. Minerva had created an atmosphere of peace which Hermione seemed content to dwell in for the time being.

After they'd eaten, they danced under the moon and the stars for a short while before the chill of the February air worked its way through the temporary warming charms that had been placed on their respective nightwear. The couple moved down a single level to where their quarters were, sharing a bath before crawling into bed together. Despite the activity of the day and the bout of love making in front of their fireplace prior to dinner, the serenity of the evening on a while prompted them to once again, reverently, show their love for one another in a tangle of tongues and limbs, eventually falling asleep with a sheet draped around their naked forms. The comforter had been, an hour before, kicked to the ground and left there forgotten in the heat of their passion and the haze of exhaustion, clock tower announcing the ending of St. Valentine's day mere minutes after they'd both drifted off.

For an evening, all was well.

* * *

 **As always, PLEASE REVIEW! They really make my day.**


	48. Chapter 48

**Hello all! This chapter officially marks the beginning of the end of Telling Time. After this, there are only four more chapters to write. Mind you, Telling Time is merely part one of the Lost Founder Series, which at this point will likely span at least four more stories about this length. Titles of those, so you know what to look for, will be:**

 **Telling Time**

 **Seeking Time**

 **Buying Time**

 **Harvest Time**

 **Fated Time**

 **Those five parts, which will likely all be nearly as long as Telling Time has gotten, will conclude with the end of the war, on canon schedule. After Fated Time, I do have some shorter additions to the series planned, though that's still a long way out yet. I just know I want to be able to show how Harry, Dudley, Emma, and their friends and family continue to grow in the aftermath of the war. Likely, what will conclude this series once and for all will be Hermione's - she being "The Lost Founder" - death. The series post Fated Time will likely skip years here and there so don't get too worried about a never ending series. I guess for me, at this point I've put so much planning into the series that it feels silly to not allow it to continue. Anyway, without further delay, Telling Time - Chapter 48. Do enjoy, and as always, thank you for your support!**

* * *

Hermione rubbed her temples as each person at her and Minerva's kitchen table added their opinion to the ins and outs of the increasing tensions in the Wizarding world. It was not an Order meeting, but it seemed to be only thing anyone was interested in talking about, and as Head of that organization, she knew she couldn't just tell them to shut the bloody hell up and allow her a moment of peace - even if the headache she was currently getting was urging her to do just that. Not even Minerva seemed to understand how heavy a burden Hermione carried, as she was as guilty as the rest of the group of bringing up the war during what had been meant to be a nice dinner for a group of friends.

"Patrick says his parents are dealing with admin meetings at St. Mungo's in which they are being told to make it routine to check for dark marks with every patient coming in," Minerva remarked. "The board is divided though, on what to do when they do get a Death Eater on their hands. Janet Hammond, of course, is Head of the hospital but a good half of the board believes that Death Eaters should be treated with the same level of care and discretion as any other patient."

"While I know for certain that four of the Dark Lord's sympathizers are members of the Mungo's board," Severus added, "there's really no telling how many of the others are truly sympathizers, or if they just take the mediwizard oaths entirely too seriously."

"Five," Leland corrected his fellow former Death Eater.

"Arimund Stannis, Charles Devlin, Judith Pritchard, and Katrina Millson," the Potions Master listed. "Who makes five?"

"Katrina, really?" Leland asked, looking surprised. "Didn't know about her. In that case, six. Henry Monksfield is a sympathizer and Greg Dennover is a Death Eater."

Severus looked sour. "Monksfield? You'd think a man who'd taught at Hogwarts would have more sense. Learned more from him during my seventh year than I did in the first six under Slughorn. Damn."

"Likely how the Dark Lord got clued into your potential," Hermione added with a sigh, filing away the name _Katrina Millson_ for further investigation. It was the only one Severus and Leland had listed which she'd not already known about.

"Did Malcolm or Robert mention to Patrick anything about the staff checking for the Mark of Eyghon?" Rupert inquired, having joined Severus for the evening.

Hermione had to admit, Minerva seemed to be holding together quite well considering both Rupert and Leland were here this evening, though the Head of the Order suspected her partner's manners might have something to do with her and Remus flanking her. Neither the Defense nor Transfiguration Professors had much tolerance for Minerva's attitude toward Leland and Rupert. Poor Severus was sitting opposite Minerva's position at the head of the table, with his boss's two least favorite people flanking him. Hermione was suddenly quite marveled at how a common cause could bring together all sorts of people, no matter their differences.

"Mungo's aside," Remus put in, "Is there any new word on the status of the Ministry?"

"You mean other than its continuing decline into a cesspool of corruption?" Leland snarked.

"Samantha has stopped going to work," Rupert put in, regarding his sister-in-law. Despite the rift between the Giles brothers, the blond woman who'd married into the family had always welcomed Rupert, encouraging him to be a part of his nephew's life. "She firecalled the other night in a panic because she'd found a list in her pile of papers to file that day with the heading _Undesirables_ , and her name was on it, along with Rob's and a handful of other Order members."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, she Owled me a copy of the list. About half of those listed were Order members or family members _of_ Order members, though I'm looking into the other names. Potentially, knowledge that the Ministry is after them one way or another will encourage them to join the Order. I've spoken with more than a few potential members who have opted out per not wanting to put themselves or their families at risk. If these people are already on the radar then they have our protection to gain and very little to lose by joining. Minerva, Patrick's parents were on that list. We're going to need to speak with them."

The Scottish woman glared. "You're just _now_ mentioning this? Bloody hell, Hermione, this is my family we're talking about!"

"And I've already assigned Order members to be watching their every move," Hermione said calmly. "I meant to speak to you about it last evening, but I'd passed out by the time you came in."

Minerva couldn't seem to find too much fault in Hermione's delay of speaking with her about the threat on her brother and sister-in-law. However, she still looked decidedly upset, and after issuing a few, lowly spoken Gaelic curses she excused herself from the table with a glance at Hermione that assured the younger witch she'd be crashing in Emma's room for the night.

"Someone's in the doghouse," Leland muttered once Minerva was up the stairs.

Remus snickered. "Sirius will be glad to hear someone besides him gets put there now and then."

Severus just rolled his eyes, though Rupert tossed her an understanding look. Nothing was said in the next few minutes as the five remaining at the table took to finishing their meals. The silence was broken by an Owl swooping through an open window in the kitchen, and directing its path toward the Head of the Order. Hermione took the crisp envelope from the creature's beak and opened the missive, scanning the contents quickly.

 _Professor Slytherin,_

 _I'm well aware that I'm likely the last person you'd wish to hear from, but I find myself in a position where I'm in need of a way out of an uncomfortable situation, and loathe as I am to admit it, I believe you are most likely to be a person with the ability and willingness to provide me with one. Of course, I believe I know you well enough to surmise that this willingness will come with a price. I assure you that there is very little I would hesitate to give you for the sake of your assistance._

 _I request a meeting with you to discuss the particulars, but I suppose you can guess the basics. You know whose mark I carry, and you know what I've done in the service of that monster of a man. Quid pro quo, I know that I would not be the first you'd liberated from a mistaken path. Assuming you're agreeable to at least speak with me, I shall be waiting on the outskirts of Hogsmeade for your arrival. I'll be alone, though I don't expect you to be as well, and I'll concede that considering our last encounter, that is only fair._

 _D. Umbridge_

"I'll be god damned," Hermione let out with a shaky voice, tossing the parchment to Remus, who read it before passing to the other end of the table. By the time Rupert, the last to read it, had done so, the other three men were clenching jaws in fury.

"Who's Umbridge?" Rupert asked, confused.

"The woman responsible for Albus' death," Severus ground out, looking furious.

"You cannot be actually considering her request!" Leland growled in an unusually emotional display.

"Does she not deserve to be heard out?" Remus inquired sharply, "much as you and Severus were?"

"Even that aside," Rupert put in, "tactically speaking she'd be a hell of an ally to have. If she did kill the Headmaster, that would have put her right in the inner circle."

"Fair point," Severus muttered, angry undertone in his voice still holding though the admission. "Though we also have to consider her aims the last time she was here. Her message may simply be a means to get Hermione out of the castle for an ambush, or to get Hermione away from either Minerva or Harry."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I do mean to at least hear her out," she said. "Though Severus and Rupert, I'd appreciate you keeping an eye on the children while I'm gone."

"I'll watch Minerva," Leland offered.

"If Minerva comes downstairs to find you and you alone still here, she'll be even more mad at me than she already is," Hermione sighed. "Remus, you stay and keep guard on Minerva, and Leland, you can come with me. I would bring another person to this meeting, but I don't want to scare her off if she does come for the reasons she's stated."

"That makes sense," Severus agreed. "But for Merlin's sake, Hermione, stay alert."

She looked at her once Professor and now dear friend. "Ob...viously," she said, mimicking his baritone, nearly trademark response to any instance it could be used.

This caused Remus, Rupert, and Leland to all let out small chuckles, breaking the tension almost entirely.

"Insufferable…" Severus groaned. "Alright, you insane lot. Let's get a move on."

Severus and Rupert conferred briefly with Hermione that for the sake of having all three children under guard and none of them in the Head Tower to alert Minerva there was anything going on, that they'd collect the children and hang out in Severus' quarters until Hermione sent word otherwise. Hermione agreed with the plan, and quickly scrawled out a note to Filius to assure the Head of Ravenclaw that Severus was free to take Emma from her dorm. Hermione of course was Head of Gryffindor and Severus of Slytherin, so they didn't need their own permission to add to the verbal agreement.

As that conversation was taking place, Remus had snuck down to the expansive collection of rare books in the Head Library, and grabbed a few books to keep himself occupied with. He also suggested that he'd have an easier time getting Minerva to believe he was just _hanging out_ if Hermione had supposedly said he could look at certain books but could not take them out of the Head Tower. As much as Hermione hated the idea of lying to Minerva at all, she knew damn well that Minerva would not approve a meeting with Dolores Umbridge, much less support an allegiance with Albus' killer if it did come down to that truly being the Death Eater's purpose. Already in hot water with her partner, Hermione was not in the mood to prompt a fight that frankly, she hadn't the time to engage in at the moment. She'd talk to Minerva about it tomorrow.

Those thoughts still on her mind as she and Leland left the Head Tower, a huff escaped her lips.

"What?" Leland asked.

"Not looking forward to Minerva finding out what I'm up to," she replied with a frown. "It's moments like this, while I deeply love Minerva, that I miss Salazar and Rowena. Sal never had a moral high horse to get on, and Rowena couldn't hold a grudge for longer than a few hours if her life depended on it. She simply did not have a temper. Sal _did_ have the ability to hold a grudge, and he _did_ have a bit of a temper, but nothing that comes close to Minerva. I'm afraid that one of these days Minerva and I will have to duel our differences out."

"You'd beat her," Lelend said with certainty. "She's good, but you're faster and have a repertoire of spells that she's never even heard of."

"I'm not worried about whether or not I can beat her," Hermione said softly. "I'm worried because I know I will beat her and she is all Gryffindor pride. I'm not certain our relationship would survive a duel."

They pair were silent for a while, till they were halfway down the path to Hogsmeade, and Leland finally mustered a reply. "I knew her parents, of course. Robert was muggle, Isobel a witch. While she did get the magic from her mum, she got her da's temperament. That said, no matter how bloody mad Robert got, he'd never make decisions while he was angry. Minerva's the same. She'd never end your relationship in a heat of the moment way."

"I hope you're right," Hermione said. "Though she got the wizarding blood both ways. Robert was a squib."

"Is that so?" the aged man asked, looking interested. "I've never heard of any McGonagalls who were wizarding before Minerva and her brothers."

"Robert was likely several generations removed - I'm not honestly sure the potion we gave Dudley would have worked for Robert - but there were wizarding McGonagalls back at the founding of Hogwarts, and I was still there when the plans for present day McGonagall Manor were being drawn up."

They were still conversing about the McGonagall line and what they each knew about it when they stepped into the gateway that separated the grounds of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade village. A minute prior they'd both drawn wands with no comment, uncertain how close to the gate Umbridge would be slinking about. They were right to have been on guard, as they'd gotten no more than five yards into the village when an irritatingly familiar voice sounded.

"Hem-hem."

Both turned rapidly, wands at the ready and pointed toward a pink clad woman they'd both had the displeasure of meeting before today. "Umbridge," Hermione said tersely.

"Slytherin," the other witch returned, holding both her hands out, palms up, to show she was unarmed. "I do believe I said I came in peace."

"Pardon us for assuming it was possible you'd be lying about your intentions," Leland ground out.

"Fair, I suppose," Umbridge shrugged. "Now, as I'm obviously alone and unarmed, shall we get down to business?"

"You stated in your letter you were seeking… liberation from Voldemort's ranks," Hermione kicked off the conversation. "Why the change of heart?"

"While I am all for pureblood reign in the Wizarding world, I find it highly distasteful that a man I opted to follow per his supposed agreement in this mindset would _forget_ whose blood was pure or not as he so chooses. He murders purebloods who are unable to achieve a given task, and will readily advance half-bloods or mudbloods, or worse _werewolves_ in his ranks when they succeed where a pureblood has failed. I _like_ order, and the Dark Lord is the very image of chaos."

Hermione studied Dolores' face and after a moment, decided that the woman was being honest. Her reasons for switching sides were far from noble, but that really didn't matter in the grand scheme. Salazar hadn't been highly noble either, but he also was solidly on one side or the other of an issue. He wasn't fickle, and Hermione didn't believe Dolores was either. Hermione was actually a bit impressed it had taken less than a year of seeing Voldemort in action for her to realize how insane he really was.

"Taking you under our protection is a risk to us," Leland stated. "What are you prepared to offer that would be of enough value to warrant that risk?"

"Information, obviously," Umbridge replied curtly. "With Snape no longer able to act the part of double agent, and the Dark Lord on high alert toward any newcomers for the potential of that, you need someone already _in_ the inner circle to become your spy. I'm willing to fill that role in exchange for your word that should I be discovered - which I'll do my best to not allow as I'd likely be killed - you'll protect me."

Hermione and Leland looked at one another, both understanding the need for information from an inside source, and the value in how little Umbridge was demanding in return. Worst case, they had one more person to protect. Best case, Voldemort never discovers her duplicity and they get information at little to no cost. "Have you anything to offer, information wise, as a show of good faith?" Hermione asked. "Also I'm sure you understand that any agreement on my part will include an unbreakable vow to ensure you don't find yourself dissatisfied with my own leadership to the point of turning on me just as you've turned on Voldemort."

Umbridge looked thoughtful. "I expected the Unbreakable Vow bit, and will submit before we part ways. As to the _good faith_ information… the Dark Lord has been collecting magical artifacts from all around the world. He had to recruit someone from the Ministry who specializes in untraceable Portkeys in order for him to go on these missions. He always goes with only Antonin and Bellatrix in tow, and I get the impression that they have been forced into vows which keep them from speaking about what they see."

"Any idea what artifacts he's seeking, or what his purpose with them are?" Hermione asked, suddenly concerned that he was seeking more objects to put horcruxes in.

"The pattern I'm seeing is that he's looking for objects that boost his existing magical power. After everything at Hogwarts, Alecto Carrow handed off one part of a spear to the Dark Lord in an effort to regain his favor, and stated that it had once been in the hands of Grindelwald, who had later handed it off to a muggle called Hitler. Carrow's grandfather or something stole it back from the muggle, and it had been passed down as an heirloom since."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, having a suspicion and not liking it one bit. "Do you have any idea by whom this spear was made? Goblins?"

"Not sure, but it wasn't the Goblins," Dolores replied. "In fact, none of the artifacts he's been bringing back from these trips have been Goblin made. He keeps referring to two people, a man and a woman, who keep beating him to the artifacts. He tends to be in a foul mood after that happens."

Leland snorted.

"Well, I'd call that a satisfactory show of good faith," Hermione concluded with a sigh, suspicions all but confirmed. "Leland, if you'd kindly act as bonder, we can get this over with and Madam Umbridge can be on her way."

"Actually, Madam Slytherin, I'd prefer if you'd act as bonder," Leland cut in.

It was so seldom that Leland questioned Hermione that the Head of the Order stopped short for a moment before nodding in agreement. For Leland to interject like that, he must have had a very good reason, and she couldn't see harm in him taking her place. Dolores didn't seem to have a problem with Leland being the one taking the vow instead of Hermione, so the continued in doing things Leland's way without any issue. After that was finished, Hermione and Dolores spoke briefly about a safe way to communicate, and then the newly christened spy was on her way and Hermione and Leland turned back toward Hogwarts.

"You going to tell me why you found it worthy information to know the Dark Lord is after magical artifacts?" Leland asked after a moment.

"Because there is only one collector of magical artifacts with no connection to the Goblins who sends a two person team for retrieval," Hermione said. "I believe I know what particular spear Voldemort has his hands on, and if I'm right then Hogwarts' wards will not hold out against an attack if Voldemort finds even one more piece of the spear. I'll need to consult an old friend."

"You've only been in this timeline for a couple of years. How old a friend are we talking about?" Leland asked.

"I believe he was already five hundred years old when I met him. He was one of the few I told the truth of who I was, and he made me promise to look him up when I did find my way home. Presuming he has managed to survive through the ages, he'll have left some trail for me to follow to find him," Hermione posed. "Likely, clues hidden in a book he left in the Hogwarts Library."

"There's a lot of books in the Hogwarts library," Leland remarked. "How will you know which one?"

"It'll be the only one written under the pseudonym of William Jinks, which was the name he was going by when we met in, oh, what year was it... 1112, I believe. We parted ways after eight years."

"Why?"

"We'd been… coworkers of a sort," Hermione elaborated. "While I agreed to work for the establishment he did for a time, when that assignment concluded I was expected to remain at Hogwarts and he was expected to remain with his organization. We saw one another, mere months before I left to come back here, a final time and only briefly so. I suspect that's when he brought the book here. I bumped into him in the astronomy aisle of the Restricted Section. Presuming the book is in the same place, I should be able to find it quickly. Deciphering the clues, well... we'll see how much of a tosser the old relic was being when he set the system up. He did like to push my intellect to the max. Now, a question for you, my friend. Why did you insist on my being the bonder and you making the Unbreakable Vow with Umbridge?"

"Simply put, because I don't trust her, and we cannot afford to lose you," Leland replied.

"Don't sell the value of your own life short, Leland," Hermione said softly, touched by his protectiveness.

Leland let out a barking laugh. "I don't. But an Unbreakable Vow, even broken, won't kill me as it would you."

Hermione looked at him in confusion, never having heard of an instance in which someone was immune to the power of an Unbreakable Vow. There was a good reason it was a so carefully used bit of spellwork. "I don't understand. How is that even possible?"

Leland offered a wide grin. "Haven't you ever taken a good look at my teeth, Hermione?"

The witch stared at him for a moment, and then it all clicked into place. "Oh, my," she whispered.

The wizard laughed at her expense and then trudged back up the hill ahead of his companion, leaving her to digest the fact that she'd missed something that she now believed she should have realized the day she'd met Leland Dourif. He couldn't be killed by the Unbreakable Vow because he was already dead.

Leland was a Vampire. The next burning question in her mind was how the devil he managed to walk in the sunlight, but it would have to wait till later. Right now, she had a book to find.

* * *

 **Some big reveals in this chapter, and more on the way! The last four chapters of part one of the Lost Founder Series are going to be setting the stage for the rest of the series in a big way, and I'm totally excited about it. I hope you are all continuing to enjoy! PLEASE REVIEW!**


	49. Chapter 49

**I am evidently on a roll. Do enjoy!**

* * *

Minerva McGonagall did not enjoy fighting with her partner, but she was still a bit upset about the fact that Hermione had neglected to mention the threat to Malcolm and Jackie. Perhaps she'd been asleep when Hermione got home, but Hermione could have woken her. Alternately, when they'd had breakfast together the next morning, she might have brought it up then. _All day long_ Hermione had ample opportunity to give Minerva a heads up, but no. She waited till the middle of dinner with a group of other people around to urge Minerva to keep her cool. She'd wanted to just lose it on Hermione, but with Severus, Rupert, Leland, and Remus all present it seemed an inappropriate time and place to do so. Of course, Minerva thought with a scoff, it had been an _inappropriate time_ for Hermione to so casually mention that Minerva's family was in danger.

She refused to apologize. There were days that Minerva felt like the power that Hermione had as Head of the Order had gone to her head, and today was one of those days. Actually, it had been nearly a week, and Minerva had been hiding out on a cot in her office every night in an effort to avoid Hermione. That said, if nothing else, being in her office all the time had given her the opportunity to not only catch up with paperwork she was behind on, but also to get a head start on next term's budget proposal. Mind, depending on the progression of the war, there might very well not be an Educational Board to get funding from by this summer. If that was the case, then Minerva would be facing wasted time, but she wasn't going to think about that right now. She just needed to keep busy, and she wasn't even inclined to spend time with the children as a means to do so. It was moments like this that Minerva felt every part the step-parent, in that she was uncomfortable spending time with the children when she and Hermione were on the outs.

"Hey, Minerva!"

With a sigh, the Headmistress turned to face her Transfiguration Professor, who was striding briskly in her direction. "Yes, Remus?" she asked curtly.

"Have you seen Hermione today?" he asked. "I meant to catch her after her classes let out for the day and missed her. She wasn't at dinner either. I was wondering if she'd made any headway on that lead Umbridge handed her - I was in the Library and…"

"Excuse me," Minerva said, eyes wide and voice shaking. "But did you just say _Umbridge_? As in _Dolores_ Umbridge? As in Hermione has been in communication with the woman who _murdered_ Albus?!"

Remus paled. "Er… it's been days, I figured she'd talked to you…"

Minerva just glared, fury rising in her chest and feeling a sense of betrayal that she'd not felt in a long time.

"I'm gunna take a guess and say she didn't…" Remus said softly. "Minerva, calm down. I can understand why you're upset, but I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation…"

"If you'd call a frequent and highly upsetting habit of leaving me out of the loop on subjects that highly impact me a _good explanation_ ," Minerva growled.

"Minerva, please, you need to…" the werewolf tried, seeming to be highly aware of just how close to totally losing control his employer and friend was.

He was right, she knew, but at the same time Minerva hoped that the animal that was a part of him could understand her fury right now. Enough was _enough_. Minerva was absolutely sick and tired of Hermione doing this to her. Time after time, Hermione had simply _forgotten_ to mention things that were important for Minerva to know. Hermione accused her of being poor at communicating, but in the same stroke the other witch hardly had room to talk. Hermione claimed to love her, claimed to trust her, and yet Minerva always seemed to be low on the list of people to inform of big developments. Helena's connection to Hermione, the fact that Harry was a horcrux, the threat to Malcolm and Jackie, and this newly discovered communication with Umbridge were just a few of the things Hermione had _forgotten_ to mention. Merlin knew how many things other things Hermione was _forgetting_ to tell her about still!

"If you'd excuse me, Remus," she said lowly. "I believe Hermione and I are decidedly overdue for a lengthy discussion. You'll need to seek her out at another time."

"Minerva, please try to cool down a bit before you go speak to her," the wizard pleaded, reaching out to touch her arm.

Wrong move.

It had been many years since Minerva's anger had gotten the better of her to the point of completely losing her sense of decorum, but as her fist connected with Remus Lupin's nose, she found that she really didn't care who saw her or how broken said man's nose might now be. Poppy could fix it. Logically, Minerva knew she was more than out of line and that Remus had only been trying to get her to see sense, but she was beyond good sense at the moment. She'd send the werewolf a nice box of chocolate later by way of apology, but for the moment her focus was on nothing but her anger towards Hermione.

Minerva was vaguely aware of multiple people, students and other staff alike, calling out to her as she stalked toward the Head Tower where she knew Hermione was holed up in Harry's room. For some reason, that always seemed to be where Hermione went when she was upset, especially if her upset meant she did not feel able to go to Minerva for comfort. It was likely because of the once friendship Hermione had shared with the Boy-Who-Was-Now-Her-Godson, and for all the things Hermione did to drive her mad, Minerva had never gotten upset at her partner for taking comfort in being surrounded by Harry's belongings.

Sure enough, Minerva had been right and Hermione was sitting crouched over a book with a stack of parchment beside her at Harry's desk. The Head of the Order turned at the sound of her lover storming in, eyebrow raising at the look of fury on Minerva's face. "Just when the bloody _fuck_ were you going to tell me that you've been in contact with Umbridge?" she asked. Her voice was low, her wand drawn, and when red sparks spit out the tip Hermione stood quickly and drew her own wand defensively.

"Minerva, calm down…" Hermione tried.

What was with people telling her to _calm down_ today, Minerva absently wondered. Again, it was the worst possible thing to say and a strong stinging hex was hurling toward Hermione a fraction of a second later.

Hermione blocked the spell, jerking out of her chair to assume a defensive dueling posture. "God damnit, Minerva!" the Head of the Order shouted. "How was I supposed to tell you when you've been avoiding me all week?!"

"I wouldn't have been avoiding you if I wasn't already _angry_ at you for, oh, guess what? MORE FUCKING SECRETS!" Minerva shouted, throwing another volley of less than friendly spells.

At that point Hermione's jaw set and she too started shooting spells, both women seemingly intent on nothing more than beating each other to a bloody pulp. So intense was their duel - abrasions already covering both of their skins as a result - that neither noticed when an utterly dumbfounded Harry stepped into the room, staring in shock at the mess that had become his bedroom and the fact that his adoptive parents were aggressively dueling, using spells that Harry himself had been expressly forbidden to use save for life and death situations.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry shouted.

Minerva's wand flew out of her hand, much to her surprise, though Hermione maintained a strong grip on her own, and seemed blind to anything but the attack she was making on Minerva. Startled at the fact that a fifteen year old had just disarmed her, Minerva's temper began to dissipate in the wake of overwhelming guilt. Hermione, however, seemed to be still seeing red and Minerva was starting to debate the wisdom of diving for cover.

"MUM, STOP!" Harry screamed, tears flowing freely down his face as he jumped in front of Minerva protectively.

Hermione stopped at once, shock written all over her face, and Minerva honestly wasn't sure if it was the shock of what Harry had just called her, or the shock of that she'd nearly attacked her unarmed lover with a spell which Minerva was certain would have been decidedly damaging of her person. Hermione's wand clattered to the ground a few seconds later as Hermione tossed it away as if the feel of the wooden handle was burning her. "Oh… Min… Harry," she croaked, tears covering her own face now. "I am so sorry. I have no idea what came over me…"

"A response to my own temper," Minerva admitted in a whisper, bowing her head in shame. "I attacked first."

"I'm sorry, Minerva," Hermione said, "but you wouldn't have had cause to lose your temper if I'd been more honest with you…"

"Hermione, darling," Minerva interjected, raising her hand to silence her partner. "We _obviously_ need to talk, but I do believe at this point it would be wise for me to take a walk and finish getting control of myself before we do. Meanwhile, I believe that Harry…"

She glanced at the boy, who was blushing like mad, knowing damn well what she was about to suggest. "... could use some comfort from his mum. Harry, for my part I do apologize for putting you in a position to witness that. I also thank you for your quick thinking on how to stop us from doing something we'd regret. Twenty points to Gryffindor, dear boy."

Harry couldn't have gotten more red if he'd been a Weasley. "Thanks," he muttered. "Just… uh… don't let it happen again? Please?"

"I shall give it my best effort," she promised sincerely. It was in this moment that Minerva realized that step-parent or Headmistress, Harry looked up to her as an example on how to behave, and she had failed him entirely today. It was sobering to Minerva to realize that for the first time in her life, being professional when professionally called for wasn't going to cut it anymore. She couldn't continue to allow her temper to rule over her personal life, as it would impact three children who had already seen enough violence in their short lives. Perhaps she should consider looking into mood-stabilizing potions. Janet might have some suggestions.

"An hour?" Hermione asked timidly, eyeing Minerva carefully. "Two?"

"An hour will be enough for me," Minerva replied in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. "But if you feel you need more time with Harry, please feel free to sent a Patronus and I'll give you the extra time. That said, we _do_ need to talk, and we need to do so _today_."

"I agree," Hermione replied. "An hour should cover us, but I'll let you know if not."

Minerva nodded and after pressing a kiss to Harry's temple and offering him a whispered encouragement, she left the room, and minutes later, left the tower entirely. Her father had often "walked it off" when he'd gotten angry, and Minerva hoped the same tactic would work for her. The lake was always quite lovely in the late evening, as the sun set. She'd head over there for a bit. Just a bit of peace and quiet…

Minerva let out an exasperated groan when she saw that the lake already had a visitor, and of bloody course the visitor just _had to be_ Leland Dourif. With a deep breath, Minerva reminded herself that Hermione wasn't the only one of them who'd failed to trust. She'd promised time and time again to speak with Dourif and hear his side of the story regarding the death of her uncle, and time and time again she'd put it off, content in her anger toward the man and uncaring of what he did to prove his loyalty on a daily basis. Minerva knew that this fight was either going to make or break her relationship with Hermione, and as it killed her to even consider the idea of losing the beautiful, brown eyed woman she loved so dearly, the Headmistress resolved to do what she could - spend her hour wisely - to offer Hermione proof that she could grow and change. Even if she didn't like what she heard, she would at least be able to tell Hermione that she'd heard Dourif out.

Minerva cleared her throat. "Dourif," she called.

He turned around and arched an eyebrow at her, a look on his face that spoke of defiance that she was well used to seeing. Before, Minerva had thought that look was one of challenge; a dare for her to risk Hermione's wrath and cause a scene. Now, she saw the sadness behind the look and realized what the expression had really meant. It was a look that said 'How dare you judge me when you have been unwilling to even hear my side of the story?', and upon realizing this, Minerva was ashamed of herself.

"Leland," she corrected herself, in a softer tone this time. "I was wondering if perhaps we could talk. If you'd rather not, I understand, but…"

"I can't even begin to guess what might have prompted you to shelf your self-righteousness," he replied. "But the door is open, Minerva. It always has been."

"Did you kill my uncle?" she asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

"I did," he replied sadly. "Even though it hurt me deeply to do so. He was my friend, you know. Just like your mum and dad."

"Why?" she asked, heart clenching at the memories of the day her world had been turned upside down.

Leland Dourif had been a hand on the farm, and had been as good as family. He was a surrogate uncle to her and her brothers, not unlike Sirius or Remus were to Harry. He had been Malcolm's godfather, for crying out loud, and Minerva's mum had taken great pleasure in introducing Leland to anyone who would listen to as her elder brother, even though they were of no real relation at all. He'd been the one she'd gone to when her magic first manifested, and he'd been the one she'd first confessed her sexuality to, when she was only seven years old. She'd trusted him above all others, and then she'd walked out to the horse barn one afternoon to find her father's brother lying dead on the ground, with Leland standing above the body with his wand gripped tightly in one hand, and wiping away a fresh flow of tears from his face with the other. It was the only time she'd ever seen the man cry.

"Because I swore to protect you kids, and I'd found your older brother crying in his room a few hours before," he said quietly. "He wouldn't tell me what had gotten him in such a state, and given that he was a grown man by then I couldn't imagine anything less than something terrible would have made him cry. You and Mal were still young, at home…"

"You used Legilimency, didn't you?" she asked.

The older man nodded. "I found memory after memory of your uncle raping Rob. I also found another few memories in which your uncle repeatedly threatened to do the same to you and Mal if Rob ever told anyone. I knew how it would impact Rob if I just told your folks or turned him over to the Ministry. His life would have been destroyed by something that wasn't his fault. You know how things were back then…"

Minerva's face was, for the second time in an hour, wet with tears as she listened. A part of her was trying to see fault in Leland's choice, but the other part of her knew that she'd have done the same if someone - anyone - had done _that_ to one of her and Hermione's children. Still, she'd loved the uncle who she'd never known to be this kind of a monster, and it was a hard pill to swallow, to just take Leland at his word, when everything inside of her want to believe he was lying to her. "Thank you," she croaked out. "For sharing your side of the story with me."

"If I know you as well as I think I do," Leland said kindly, "then I expect you're itching to storm over to your brother's place and get confirmation. Go on, _leannan_. I certainly don't hold it against you for wanting to be sure."

Minerva nodded, and her eyes flickered toward the gate; the nearest point from where she could apparate. "Can you alert Filius that I've stepped out for a short while? And Hermione as well. Tell her I should still be back within the hour… we have a discussion of our own to finish."

"Consider it done," he replied, reaching out and touching her arm for the first time in too many years to count.

The touch of his always cool hand was comforting, and before she could stop herself she leaned into his waiting embrace like the child she used to be. He held her tightly, kissing her hair lightly and whispering assurances as she whimpered out an apology for doubting him. Yes, she needed to still hear it from Robert, but her heart already knew Leland wasn't lying.

Ten minutes later, Minerva was standing in front of Robert's London flat, taking a few more deep breaths before raising her hand to knock on the door. It opened a moment later, and Robert greeted her with a warm smile. "Well isn't this a surprise!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing…"

His question died on his lips as he took in the heartbroken expression on her face. "Min, what's wrong?" he demanded. "What's happened? Is it Mal? Jackie? Patrick?"

"All fine," she whispered. "As far as I know."

"Hermione?" he dared to ask.

"Fine, as are the children," she replied, sitting down on his sofa as he closed the door quietly behind her.

"Then what the bloody hell is wrong, Minerva?" he asked, looking frustrated. "I haven't seen you this upset since… oh."

She could see it in his face all at once. She saw her brother's guilt, sadness, and anger over what had happened all those years ago. "Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered.

"Wasn't your burden to carry," he said gruffly, running his fingers through his greying hair.

"You let me hate Leland, all these years…" she accused, more than a little peeved at _that_ fact.

"No, Minerva," Robert replied harshly. "That's on Leland and yourself. I told you that Leland didn't deserve your hatred, and thanks to the sneaky git and a drunkenly taken Unbreakable Vow, I could not tell you more than that. He was determined that if ever you or Mal learned the truth about that day, you'd be getting answers from him. He called it his penance for actually doing the deed."

A shaky sigh left Minerva's lips as she came to terms with the fact that ultimately, it was her anger and she needed to take responsibility for it. No more blame games. The same mindset needed to be applied to her upcoming conversation with Hermione. "Alright," she said softly. "Thank you for… well, confirming what Leland told me. And for the rest… protecting me and Mal. Does he know?"

Robert shrugged off the thanks. "As far as I know, Malcolm is as clueless as usual. That said, I think Jackie knows, somehow. Every damn time I try sulking in her presence the bloody woman says ' _Stop playing the abused child'_. Her secondary specialty is psychology, after all, though I doubt that she knows who was responsible or when it happened."

"Did Albus know?"

"I suspect he did, though we never talked about it," came a sad reply. "The vow I made with Leland only stopped me from telling you and Mal - I have, for the record, seen a therapist - and I believe Leland did that because he was afraid in the heat of anger I might lash out and blame one of you for my problems. He was, in his way, preserving our relationships with each other."

"And that worked out so well," Minerva said dryly.

The McGonagall siblings both chuckled, thinking of their black sheep brother and how very little he had to do with either of them in recent years. The two sat, just talking for a little while longer, before Minerva realized the time and told him she needed to get back to Hogwarts.

"Next time you drop by," Robert said tenderly, pulling her into a hug, "Let's try it without the tears. I know we're both busy people, but you're my sister, and I love you, and this damn war starting up again has reminded me just how fleeting life can be. We need to make more time for each other."

"I agree," Minerva said, wrapping her arms around Robert tightly. "And loathe as I am to do so, I think we also need to make a better effort to get along with Malcolm."

"I have a feeling that's your wife talking."

"Hermione is not my wife," Minerva grumbled.

"She might as well be," he teased. "And one day, I imagine she will be. Merlin save us if she and Jackie get to be friends."

"We'd be doomed," Minerva agreed with a laugh. "On that note, I do need to go. Said not-wife and I have a long overdue discussion scheduled."

"You two got into a fight didn't you?" Robert accused.

"Duel, actually."

"Ouch."

"We were about to kill each other and Harry stepped in and stopped us," Minerva admitted, rubbing one of the places a slashing hex had hit her an hour ago. Leland had patched her up before sending her off to see Robert, but the area was still tender.

"Double ouch," Robert winced. "Neither of you are going to live that down any time soon."

"Of that, I am quite sure."

Final goodbyes said, Minerva made her way back to Hogwarts, and after alerting Filius and Leland both that she was back in the castle, she made her way to the Head Tower. Hermione, to no surprise was in their bedroom, waiting for her.

"Leland said you two had a heart to heart," Hermione said softly in greeting.

"We did," Minerva replied. "I believe we are in a position to… move forward, and past our differences."

"I'm glad to hear it. It's not a secret I wanted to be keeping from you," Hermione said. "But it wasn't my secret to share."

"I understand, in that case," the older witch conceded. "But that's not the only thing you've kept from me, and while I do think I owe it to you to hear out your reasoning in each case before I lose my temper, I also cannot stand here and be okay with so frequently being the last to know things. Especially when those things impact me personally, or the school for which I am responsible. Or my…"

"Your what, Min?" the Head of the Order asked tenderly, as if she already knew what Minerva was trying to say.

"Children. My family. _Our_ family, _our_ children, Hermione," Minerva said, sinking onto the edge of the bed. "I know we're not married, I know I have no legal rights, and I know I'm not the one that Harry called _mum_ an hour ago, but gods save me I love Harry like a son, I love Dudley like a son, and I love Emma like a daughter. And you, Hermione, no matter how much you frustrate me, I love you to the ends of the earth. I love you like you're my wife and I am _that_ committed to you, but to make all of this work, to make it last, I believe we need to work on becoming the family that we already act like we are. We need to… face problems as a family, instead of just enjoying the happy moments together. We need to support each other better, and not just lean on each other when it suits us. I'm not saying we and only meaning _you,_ by the way. I know I am just as guilty of all of this."

Hermione took a moment to digest what Minerva was saying. "I agree with everything you're saying. My biggest failing, and I believe I need to be held accountable about this more, is that so much of my life is nothing but a pile of secrets, which are only shared when it serves my aims. It's difficult for me to switch mindsets. I didn't tell you about Helena because I didn't see how knowing my daughter with another woman was around would serve to improve our relationship. I didn't tell you about the threat to Malcolm and Jackie because their protection was not something I intended on making you responsible for, so I didn't see sense in making you worry. I didn't tell you about Umbridge - we'll get back to that in a moment - because you were already upset with me and I didn't see how making you more upset would help anything."

"I'm not just an Order member," Minerva whispered. "Or at least, I hope I mean more to you than that."

"You mean more to me than anyone ever has, and I swear to you Minerva, everything changes right here and now," Hermione promised. "I will do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, because I know I've violated it numerous times. Also, as soon as Sirius and I formalize the adoption of Harry so I can be legally responsible for him in totality, I will draw up paperwork giving you legal rights to all of the children. You've been there from day one with each of the children. They are just as much yours as they are mine and I am sincerely sorry if I've made you doubt that at all."

Minerva nodded. "Can we start with clearing the air about the latest two issues? What's being done to see to Malcolm and Jackie's protection? And what's going on with Umbridge that involved some sort of lead to follow?"

"Regarding Malcolm and Jackie, I've had them moved to Prince Manor, and they've agreed that if they are not at St. Mungo's, they will be at the Manor. If they need to go elsewhere, they let me know and I arrange for Order members to escort them. They use the floo to get to and from work," Hermione reported. "That went into effect four days ago, and prior to that I had Order members tailing their every move while I set things up."

"Acceptable, especially as I know that while St. Mungo's stands, my idiot brother and his idiot wife will keep going to work," Minerva replied, somewhat sourly. Of course, now her mood was more directed toward Malcolm and Jackie's stubbornness and less at any criticism of Hermione's arrangements to protect them.

"Umbridge?" Minerva prompted.

"Reached out to me via Owl minutes after you left the dinner table that night," Hermione explained with a sigh. "She has been… displeased with Voldemort's regime and wanted out. She offered to become a double agent on the condition that if she was discovered, the Order would see to her protection."

Minerva took a deep, centering breath. While decidedly displeased at this development, she was not Head of the Order and it was not her call to make. "The so called _lead_?"

"As a show of good faith she offered some information - that Voldemort is hunting magical artifacts," Hermione continued. "At first I was concerned he was trying to make more horcruxes but then she said that first, none of the artifacts she knows of are Goblin made, and second that Voldemort has in his possession a piece of a spear which was once held by both Grindelwald and Hitler. This artifact sounded a good deal like something an old friend of mine from the Founder's Era once told me about. He was immortal, or rather is in theory, and left me clues to find so I could track him down once I returned to my proper time. I have the book in which the clues are, and I'm nearly finished with deciphering them. I mean to locate him, assuming he's still kicking, to help get a better handle on the types of artifacts that Voldemort is seeking. If he is after what I think he's after, then we'll need his help."

Minerva was silent for a moment, processing. "See, that wasn't too hard," she finally said, trying to break the tension that still hung in the air. She didn't know about Hermione, but for herself, Minerva was exhausted and more than ready to let the rest sit for another day.

Hermione chuckled. "Not hard at all. I really should just make a habit of telling you everything."

"I think I'd be more than okay with that."

"Was it so hard to have a conversation with me without starting to throw hexes?" Hermione asked, tone teasing.

"Ehhhh..." Minerva drawled, feigning that this was debatable.

Hermione hit her with a pillow, and just like that the weight of the world was gone, if only for a moment. Giggles followed, and then some well deserved make-up sex before the couple retired for the night, the promise of a better tomorrow hanging in the air.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	50. Chapter 50

**This chapter sort of ran away with me. Total word count of over 6k. A LOT packed into this chapter - I did warn you - but as always I do hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Hermione was en route to the Head Tower, just after lunch the next afternoon. It was Saturday and a very nice day outside, so most of the students were somewhere on the grounds. Some of the older students were in Hogsmeade - Filius and Pomona were on chaperone duty - and since Hermione didn't have any detentions to oversee, she had spent the day trying to work out the clues left by her friend William, or whatever he was calling himself these days.

"I am _sorry_ …"

Hermione paused her step, hearing Minerva's voice around the corner, and knowing the tone of voice she was using and how it usually meant she was on round three or four of saying those particular words.

"You hit me," Remus Lupin's voice sounded, hard edge to it.

"Again, I say, I'm sorry," Minerva pleaded. "It will not happen again."

"Do you expect me to just forgive and forget?" he asked, sounding a bit more nasal than usual, probably because he'd been in the hospital wing all night under Skele-gro for the broken nose that Minerva had given him the evening before.

"Ten pounds of Honeyduke's chocolate waiting in your office is hoping that's possible," Minerva said. "Truly Remus, I'm trying to make things right here."

There was a silence between them for a moment, before Remus replied in a decidedly more chipper tone. "I think I find that when good chocolate is presented to me, my memory gets a bit hazy," he reported.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" Minerva inquired.

"It means the fact that you slugged me is forgotten," he countered. "Which means I have no idea what on earth you need forgiving for. I'll admit that for future references I'll be sure to be ready to duck before trying to reach out and comfort or calm you."

"I'd consider that fair."

The two continued to chat, or so Hermione presumed, as she turned around and headed a different direction _home_ , ensuring Minerva and Remus had an opportunity to resolve their differences in privacy without feeling rushed by her arrival. Ten minutes later Hermione had made it to her office on the Library level of the Head Tower, and with a heavy sigh placed _Arithmancy and Magical Physics_ , by one William Jinks, in front of her. She'd read the book cover to cover three times now, and while a very interesting book that she'd likely hold onto for reference material, she was no closer to figuring out what clues might be there for her to find. Hell, she'd even resorted to looking at page numbers to see if there were certain ones missing that might be a key to an Arithmancy equation. Still nothing.

Frustrated, Hermione opened up the table of contents, thinking that perhaps if she looked at the chapter titles in order, it might give a frame of reference or spark an idea. She didn't usually bother looking at a table of contents for a book, given she was going to read the whole thing one way or another, but at this point she was decidedly desperate. Of course, knowing _him_ … bloody hell, he'd probably been banking on her habit of not reading the table of contents.

 _Must and Must Not Rules of Arithmancy_

 _You and They and Everything In Between_

 _Over the Rainbow To Pots of Gold_

 _Think Until You Know the Numbers_

 _Every Time You Make a Mistake You Learn_

 _Thing or Things Unknown Until You Know_

 _Or Chaos Will Be Order and Order Will Be Chaos_

 _Might and Weakness as Variables in Time Travel_

 _You Now and You Then in Perspective_

 _Consider and Contrast Before Determination_

 _Just and True if Not a Little Temperamental_

 _Sending Messages Through Space and Time_

 _An Uncontested Right to Ask Questions_

 _Owl or Numerology in Proper Context_

Hermione stared. And then she stared some more. Confusion, an unusual expression for her to be wearing, was etched on her face in full measure. While the chapter titles… _sort of_ related to the contents of the book, the order was all wrong. While there had been a chapter about how to communicate messages through time, that had been chapter four, not chapter twelve. There had also been a section that spoke of Numerology, but not once in the entire book was communication through Owl Post mentioned. For probably fifteen minutes she looked for something, _anything_ out of place, before she saw something that was a bit too _in place_.

And then she laughed. She laughed and laughed until there were tears rolling down her cheeks, and as soon as she was able to pull herself together she grabbed a bit of parchment and wrote down the first word of each chapter.

 _Must You Over Think Every Thing Or Might You Consider Just Sending An Owl._

Typical, just _typical_ of the man! He'd presented the most obvious means to contact him, and frankly, Hermione knew she should have thought of that from the off. Owls could find anyone, anywhere, so long as they were living. It was part of the enchantments woven into each common owl egg that would ultimately hatch a magical post Owl. And, Hermione now remembered, it was a method of magical communication that Salazar had come up with some years before Hermione had ever met her eventual husband, so William would certainly have known then that the means of communication, even if not commonly used a thousand years later, would at least be something she'd have known how to make happen.

 _William_.

Hermione had mixed feelings about the name. Like herself, William had been a person with many names, and while she did know that his name changed every few decades so that he could blend in with the changing times, she was also well aware of the name he was born with, though precious few did. William had not even shared his true name with Salazar, Rowena, Helga, or Godric.

Grin firmly in place, Hermione scrawled a quick note, using her dear friend's true name for the recipient, knowing that no matter what he was calling himself these days, that _was_ his name and a magical Owl would be able to identify him as such. She drew her wand and cast a series of enchantments on the parchment which would turn it into a portkey directly to a room in the Three Broomsticks which Hermione kept constantly rented in her name, for if ever Emma felt the need to spent time in the place she'd spent her early childhood. From there, he'd be a short walk from Hogwarts, and he'd know how to find her, even if he was not a wizard of the typical sort. He didn't use a wand, anyway, though he did use magic from time to time, and could not be fooled by muggle repelling charms and the like that typically kept the wizarding world hidden from the muggle one. A simple activation key, the name of the third member of their team, would bring him from wherever he was to her doorstep in an instant.

She made her way toward the Owlery, intent on using one of the school's more long-distance ready birds given that she had no idea how far away William actually was. For all she knew, he'd migrated to America in the last thousand years. Thoughts of William were mixed with joy and anticipation for seeing him again, and with sadness for their long lost companion. The working relationship she and William had shared had ended upon Joseph Literman dying in the line of duty. With the loss of his life, Hermione had chosen not to stay with the establishment that William had introduced her to, even if it meant losing two dear friends in one fell stroke.

Ultimately, by that point she'd been on track in finding a way back to her true timeline, and knew that she couldn't stay with William much longer in any case. Still, it had been heartbreaking. In some ways, Hermione felt like she'd loved William even more than she'd loved Sal and Rowena. There had been no romance between them - Hermione wouldn't allow for it and neither would he - but that didn't mean their relationship had been entirely platonic for the eight years they'd worked side by side. Such was the benefit of how open sexuality was at that time.

Hermione had just finished ascending the flight of stairs leading to the Owlery when she bumped into Harry, who was in muggle clothing for the weekend, and was likely sending off a letter to Sirius, with whom he did keep fairly regular contact. "Hey, mum," he said cheerfully.

Hermione smiled. While it had been decidedly shocking to hear Harry call her _that_ in the midst of her violent argument with Minerva, it had led to a conversation that probably should have happened months ago. Harry had admitted that he felt that way toward her for some time, and that given most of his friends - Neville Longbottom being the exception - had people to call _mum_ and _dad_ , that he often felt out of place for not using the word to describe what she'd become to him. If she was honest with Harry, and she had been the evening before, it wasn't as if she didn't think of him as a son just as he thought of her as a mother. Conversation had, the pair had agreed to stop pretending to be something less than they were; parent and child.

"Hello, _son_ ," she replied, earning a grin from Harry that warmed her heart beyond measure. "What are you up to today? Sending a letter to Sirius?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'm meeting the other _Order Kids_ down at the Quidditch pitch in about half hour. Not sure what we're doing today, but we did agree to hang out."

The self proclaimed _Order Kids_ were the children of Order members who most often attended meetings with their parents. At last count, the core group included Harry, Emma, Dudley, Neville Longbottom, Ethan Giles, Luna Lovegood, along with Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George Weasley. There were other children of Order members who did join that group of friends, and now and then a student whose parents were not in the Order joined the group as well. Colin and Dennis Creevy spent considerable time with the Order kids as well. Draco Malfoy, oddly enough, had taken to Dudley very quickly after Dudley had been sorted to Slytherin. Given the Vow that Hermione had made with Narcissa to urge Draco away from following in Lucius' shoddy footsteps, this had been a friendship that Hermione and Minerva agreed to encourage.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," she told Harry as the fifteen year old tied a roll of parchment to an Owl's leg, and she did the same with her own letter.

"We will," Harry agreed. "Did you and Minerva sort things out?"

Hermione sighed. "More or less. We both agree we each need to make some changes in the way we relate to one another, and in how we communicate. Our biggest issue, I think, is that I believe she needs to try to understand that I am Head of the Order and that I can't always make decisions she approves of. I don't try to tell her how to run Hogwarts, and yet she continually acts as though her approval is needed on all Order related decisions. On the flip side, when I don't inform her about things, or do things I know would not meet her approval, she believes me to be keeping secrets."

Hermione had not meant her answer to Harry to have turned into a vent, and she felt a bit guilty for it. It was not his burden to carry, nor should he be put in the middle of a discord between his parents. Regardless, he was looking at her in a thoughtful manner, and to her surprise did not simply pretend to understand. He actually offered advice.

"It's hardly fair for you to act angry over whether or not she approves of something you do. You're acting like you don't care about her approval, but that's not true," he said evenly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You've always wanted to live up to her expectations, from the day we got to Hogwarts. So that means your anger is more about you than her."

For the second time in the same amount of days, Hermione looked at Harry in complete and utter shock. It wasn't that he was offering advice, though that was surprising enough, but it was what he said and what she knew he meant. ' _...from the day_ we _got to Hogwarts…'_

He knew the truth.

"Harry are you saying…" she asked carefully, not wanting to tip her hand if she was wrong.

"That I know you're a twice over time traveler who used to be my best friend?" Harry concluded. "Yeah."

"How long have you known, Harry?" she asked with a bit of an edge in her voice.

He shrugged. "I started wondering beginning of last year, though I was pretty sure I was barking mad. Then over last New Years, I overheard you and Minerva and Emma's mum talking. I'd just figured out the egg clue…"

Hermione remembered the day in question, and remembered the conversation Harry must have listened in on. If he was already suspicious by that point, well, they should have been more careful that day but there was nothing she could do about it now.

"I wanted to be mad," he confessed. "I thought about storming in and making a scene and being a total tosser about it, because all I could think about was the day you told me that Hermione… _my Hermione_ , was dead. I couldn't think about anything but that you'd lied to me. But then I thought about why I'd even come to find you. I realized that it was something I wanted to share with you - my _mum_ \- and I realized that if I'd never met this version of you, if you'd never gone back in time and grown up without me and Ron… well, I'd have wanted to share that moment with that other version of you just as much. So I decided to appreciate the fact that I _hadn't_ really lost my best friend, and that I got a mum out of the whole mess. If I blew up, I stood to lose _her_ all over again, and lose you in the process."

"That's a very mature way to look at things," Hermione said softly. "I am sorry for that lie, but you must understand that who I am… how I became who I am, more accurately, breaks too many laws to count. While _Miss Granger_ lived, I was only begging for people to realize that she and I were one and the same."

"Yeah, that's what Ron figured was your reasoning," Harry admitted.

Hermione groaned. "Who else have you told, other than Ron?"

"Just Dudley and Emma, though neither of them knew you before so it was less of an adjustment for them. I just didn't want to keep it from my brother and sister. Ron said he wouldn't have kept something like that from his brothers and sister if he'd discovered that one of his parents was a time traveler who he'd been mates with."

"So… is everyone… _alright_ with this knowledge?" Hermione asked, understanding Harry's reasoning for telling who he'd told, and appreciating that it had not gone further. "Have you, any of you, got questions?"

"Yeah, we're fine," Harry shrugged. "The only things we couldn't put together were how you went back and how you came forward, and then how long you were _there_. Oh, and we are pretty sure the Ghost of Ravenclaw Tower is our sister but we don't know for sure and we didn't want to ask her and put her in a position to betray your trust."

"I fell in the corridor on my way to Potions, end of third year. I'd been using a timeturner all year so I could take extra classes. The time turner broke, and I ended up going back in time to before Hogwarts was even built. It took me thirty years to build a new time turner which would send me forward instead of just further back. It's one of a kind. And yes, Rowena is my daughter, and by extension your sister. I told you a bit about her before."

He nodded in understanding. "So can you use it to check out events that haven't happened yet, to help with the war?" Harry asked, looking interested.

"In theory, yes, but it is a dangerous thing, to meddle with time," Hermione replied. "I learned that the hard way - and the cost was high. Every time you move through time you are risking both minor and major changes that are all but impossible to predict. I have several good books in our Library if you'd like to study the subject further."

"I'll think about it."

Hermione decided, on the spot, that given this new information it was time for a family meeting. In fact, it had been too long since she and Minerva had managed to both be at dinner with all three children. There was no reason they couldn't pull that off this evening. In fact, she'd invite Severus as well, as he'd become a father to the children and was just as much family as any of the rest of them. "Harry, plan on having dinner in the Tower tonight. We're overdue some family time, I think."

"Shall I tell Dud and Emma?"

"Please do. Let's plan on half past six," she said, setting a time and mentally going over what needed done before then. "I believe I should seek out Ron and have a conversation with him now that who I am… who I was, is out in the open between us. If he's late to your meet up with the Order Kids that will be why."

"I think he'd appreciate that," Harry agreed. "And just so you know…"

"Yes, Harry?" she asked.

"This doesn't change anything," he whispered. "You're still my mum, even if you were my friend before that. I need a mum more than I need my friend back. I think that you were right… even though I know you're the same person, my friend Hermione Granger _did_ die at the world cup. I miss her, but I love you."

Hermione pulled Harry into a tight hug, both of them sniffling a bit as the high emotions blanketed them both. She'd always known one day Harry and Ron would learn the truth, and while she had wanted to be the one to break it to them, a part of her was glad they'd figured it out on their own.

Harry headed off to meet his friends, and a quick _Point Me_ charm had Hermione headed toward Ron. She found him near the Room of Requirement a short while later, and as she approached she suddenly felt unsure of herself for the first time in years. She didn't know how to act around Ron now. Before she'd gone back in time, he'd been her friend. After, she'd kept emotionally distant from the red haired boy, only allowing herself to see him in a manner befitting any other parent and how they'd see a friend of their child. Her and Harry's relationship had evolved by way of her adopting him, but with Ron, there had really only been surface changes.

"Ron?" she called out timidly.

The teenager looked at her in confusion for a moment. "Amelia?" he responded in a worried tone, obviously sensing something was off.

She froze. He'd called her that a hundred times, and it had never felt wrong until this moment. Hermione couldn't stop herself as her head shook side to side, denying the name and the way it had changed the dynamic between them. With Harry, even before she'd had the urge to mother him because of his lack of parental figures. Ron had a solid family life, and so they had been able to be nothing more or less than simply friends. It had been something normal that stood out _because_ it was normal and everything else in her life had been anything but.

Ron's shoulders relaxed and he walked toward her slowly, a single tear for remembrance sliding down his cheek as he opened his arms to offer a hug. "Hermione," he whispered.

And just like that, she fell into his embrace. He was still so young and she wasn't, but he was taller than her now and somehow despite his youth, his strong arms made her feel innocent and safe, if only for a moment. "I've missed you," she whispered. "And I am _so_ sorry, for everything."

"I never believed you left us on purpose," Ron tried to soothe her. "And really, 'Mione, you came back. Yeah, it took a while from your perspective but for whatever reasons, _you came back_. Far as I'm concerned, you've got nothing to be sorry for. Gods, I've missed you too, though. I missed my friend, no matter how awesome you are at being my boyfriend's mum. I couldn't hug her, not like this…"

"We'll have to find a happy medium of some sort," she sniffled, pulling away as their hug ended. "I wish I could just snap my fingers and we could be just as we were before, but honestly Ron, I'm a grown woman and you are still a child. We can't just… _hang out_ , not that way."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. I was just kind of thinking that on the days where you're really feeling the weight of the world, maybe coming to someone who knows the girl you were at the beginning wouldn't be a bad idea."

"That's too much to put on your shoulders, Ron," Hermione argued.

"The weight of the world was on my shoulders the day I decided to be friends with _The Boy Who Lived_ ," he said with a shrug. "I get that I'm still a kid and that stuff like that shouldn't be my problem and all that, but bloody hell, five years standing by Harry's side has kind of made me grow up fast, if you know what I mean. I wish I was still an innocent kid, but I'm not and you know it."

The idea of Ron not being _innocent_ caused Hermione to arch an eyebrow and give him decidedly motherly glare, question dancing in her eyes.

He knew exactly what she was wondering. "No, we have not had sex. Get that 'I'm about to lecture you' look off your face!"

They stared at each other for a few seconds before they both burst out laughing. "I know you were headed to meet with Harry and the rest of the Order Kids," Hermione reminded him gently. "How about you go on before your boyfriend starts to worry. If you want to talk more later… today or otherwise… you know where to find me, Ron."

"Okay, 'Mione," he agreed. "See you around."

Hermione uttered a quick charm to clean her face off after Ron had vanished around the next corner. She needed to pop by Severus' quarters and ask him to dinner, and after two emotional conversations in a row, she was not in the mood for a third. If Severus saw she'd been crying, he'd ask what was going on, and she'd likely break down again. It was just one of those days.

The chill of the dungeon felt nice after being above ground level where the castle was warmest. As the seasons were shifting toward summer weather, some days Hogwarts didn't quite keep up a comfortable temperature in all areas of the castle. In crossed Hermione's mind as she made her way toward Severus' quarters that he and Rupert were dating, so she supposed that it would be appropriate to extend the dinner invitation to the elder Giles brother along as well. Given that this evening was supposed to be about her own liberty to talk about all of her past without fear, and Rupert was unaware of the final piece of the puzzle, Hermione was _not_ inclined to invite him even if she did like the man very much. Of course, just because she _could_ be open about the full truth of who she was didn't mean she had to be tonight. She'd put the offer out there for Rupert to join them, though who even knew if he was available.

"Enter!" she heard the Potions Master call out harshly.

Well, he wasn't in a great mood, that was certain. "Severus?" she called carefully, stepping into his quarters. "You alright?"

"Oh, it's just you," he said coming around the corner from where his personal lab was situated into the main living area. "Sorry for being snappy, I have a sixth year Hufflepuff who keeps _popping by_. I utterly loathe it when students develop crushes. Am I not mean enough? I could be meaner."

"You could," she agreed. "But I'd really rather you weren't. Fancy coming to dinner tonight for a family get together?"

"What's the occasion?" he asked. "Did Em finally talk the boys into turning in their homework on time?"

Hermione laughed, thinking some things never did change. For all of the improved work ethic Harry and Ron, and now Dudley had gained, none of the three boys could be counted on to turn something in on time more than once per week. Emma, however, usually turned in assignments a day or two early, and often nagged at the boys for their decided lack of give a damn over timeliness. "No. I discovered this afternoon that the children have known the full truth of my identity since the beginning of last year. Harry made a comment that tipped his hand, and then admitted Ron had helped him figure things out, and that he'd told Dudley and Emma because they were siblings and he didn't want to keep things from them. It's gone no further than that."

Severus frowned. "I'll have to redouble my efforts with the children - perhaps even include Mister Weasley from here on out - in Occlumency lessons. If any of them were captured by the Dark Lord, your secret would be out."

Hermione groaned. "Damn, I'd not even considered that. I guess I was just relieved that I no longer needed to hide it from them."

"That's why you keep me around," Severus commented. "It's helpful to have the captain of worst-case-scenario-planning around during wartime."

"Yes Severus, that's exactly why I keep you around," she deadpanned. "So, dinner? Rupert can join you if you'd like."

"If you mean to be gracious by way of our romantic liaison, then you needn't worry about that any longer," he replied. "While we certainly remain friends, we've discontinued our sexual relationship. We agreed that we've both changed and our reasons for coupling are no longer valid in such a case. There was consideration on seeking new things over which to bond, but then we factored in the war and that he's a Watcher and could be called away to Merlin knows where at any point… well, neither of us were interested in a long-distance relationship, and I'm not leaving Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded in understanding, honestly not surprised. "Just you then? Six thirty?"

"If I must," he muttered, as usual feigning disinterest at the notion of spending time with what had become his family.

"Alternately I could catch the entirety of the sixth year Hufflepuff class doing something or another wrong and send them to your office for detention at seven," she offered.

He glared. "You wouldn't dare."

"Don't forget, no one thought I'd ever punch Draco Malfoy in the face," she reminded him. "And yet…"

"I'll be there at six fifteen," he promised rapidly. He was learning quickly not to call her bluff. Especially since she so rarely did bluff. Grandiose claims were merely precursors to grandiose and well thought out plans. Hermione Granger Slytherin _liked_ planning.

"See you then," she said cheerfully.

From Severus' quarters, Hermione made her way back up to the Head Tower, checking the time as she reached the stone Gargoyles. Half past five. "Min?" she called as she stepped into their living room. "Are you home?"

Home.

It felt good to call it that again. When Hermione had first arrived, it had been surprisingly upsetting. She found that whereas when she was a student here, she'd felt Hogwarts was her home, and then when she'd been there at the castle's construction, it had become home all over again, but when she'd come back to her proper time the castle had seemed… alien. It wasn't _her_ Hogwarts anymore. She was not a student there, nor was she a teacher at first, though the latter had been remedied fairly quickly. Hermione had been the first Defense Professor to last more than a single year in several decades; there had even been a small article in the _Daily Prophet_ to note the occasion, this past September.

"In the kitchen, Hermione," Minerva called. "I was just starting to think about what to make for dinner."

"The children and Severus will be joining us for the evening meal," the younger woman informed her lover. They'll be here in about an hour."

"Well that rules out the smaller meal I'd been thinking of," Minerva mused, though she didn't sound displeased at the notion of having company. "What prompted this?"

"Family?"

"That explains it all," the older witch said sarcastically.

"I was informed this afternoon by our middle child that he, Ron, Dudley and Emma have known for some time the truth of my origins," Hermione explained. I've spoken to Harry and Ron, but not Dudley or Emma. I alerted Severus of the development, and of course his first thought was that the children need to step it up with the Occlumency lessons. He also believes it would be prudent for Ron to begin joining our three."

"Which means you'll need to speak with Molly," Minerva concluded.

"I'll need to speak with Molly," Hermione agreed. "While perhaps this development prompted my desire for a family dinner, in context of our other conversations the last few days, I think I'd like to make this a regular thing. Perhaps bi weekly, Saturday dinners as a family?"

"That would leave the alternating Saturday evenings free for us to work on _us_ ," the Headmistress concluded. "I think it's a solid plan, though perhaps it would be wise to make it an open thing that Severus or the children can opt out of if other things come up. I wouldn't like it to become a dreaded event or resented one, because one of the children was forced to miss an activity in favor of the set dinner."

Hermione nodded. "I agree that we should be flexible with them, but I don't think it too pushy to stress to the kids that _I feel like playing Quidditch_ is not an acceptable excuse for missing. This should be a lesson to them on the subject of priorities."

"And we're supposed to be the priority?"

"Family is supposed to be the priority. This is just as much about them spending time with each other as it is them spending time with us. They're all in different houses," Hermione reminded her lover. "They see so little of each other."

"I think they spend more time together than either of us realize," Minerva suggested. "That fort of theirs we supposedly don't know about is coming together nicely. I think they've been sneaking in and out of the tower when they know we're both elsewhere. Oh, speaking of _sneaking_ , I'd be willing to bet that Harry had been using the Marauders Map to track you while he was seeking confirmation of your identity. In fact, the fact that the map lists you as _Hermione_ and not _Amelia_ was probably one of his first clues. Given that he no longer needs to lie to you, I suppose it's time to return the article to him."

Hermione pouted. "Must I?"

"I do believe you gave him your word that when he came clean you would," Minerva reminded her. "And I'd like to consider us the sort of parents who keep their word, as to set an example of behavior for our children."

Grudgingly, Hermione agreed to return the Marauders Map to Harry after she'd had a chance to speak to him about some rules for its use and under what conditions she'd take it away again. The conversation then shifted to decisions about what to prepare for dinner, then then the following forty-five minutes was spent working together to prepare a meal. Severus, of course, was the first to arrive, though Dudley was not far behind him and Harry and Emma arrived together only a few minutes before six thirty.

Dinner conversation was highly relaxed. Emma pointed out that Hermione could be referred to _as Hermione_ when they were not in mixed company, and the time traveling witch grinned widely at the thought. Harry was now calling her _Mum_ , but Dudley and Emma decided that they simply wished to shift from calling her _Aunt Amelia_ to _Aunt Hermione_. Severus and Minerva - _mostly Minerva_ \- were just pleased they didn't have to use the name _Amelia_ around the children anymore. The Order members all knew her as _Hermione_ and so using her true name among Order members was a given. The children however were _not_ in the Order, and Hermione had been too afraid of tipping her hand regarding the children knowing the truth of her origins that she'd built into the Order contract that if members were discussing Order business away from meetings, they were magically bound to referring to herself as "The Head", rather than using any name. This saved her the trouble of worrying about eavesdroppers.

During dinner, the children all shared a bit about what was going on in their lives with their pseudo-parents. Emma had evidently been spending a good deal of time reading books well above her grade level, which prompted Hermione to suggest that Emma look into Mastery programs which could be completed remotely so that someone who was still technically a student at Hogwarts could get a jump start on a degree. Emma expressed an interest in doing so, though she was undecided if she wanted to go after a Mastery program, or if she wanted to look into Muggle degrees. Hermione encouraged her to look into both and then make a decision.

Harry shared that he was really starting to enjoy Potions, now having a better grasp of the basics since Severus had gone back and helped him address issues he'd been having which had led to difficulties later. The Potions Master spoke up, and said that he expecting nothing less than an _Outstanding_ on Harry's upcoming Potions OWL. All three children groaned at the mention of the impending horror of sitting for the _Ordinary Wizarding Level_ exams. Severus chuckled and told them to just wait till they got to their NEWTs.

Dudley talked about his continued interest in business. It was a bittersweet thing for him to have such an intrigue. It had been something Vernon was good at so a part of Dudley wanted to be interested in _anything else_ , but at the same time it was something that Severus was good at, and it was obvious to everyone in the room - including Severus and much to his startlement - that Dudley had begun to see Severus like a father and looked up to him greatly.

Conversation was winding down as the group began banishing plates to the kitchen as dinner concluded when there was a knock on the door. "I'll get it," Hermione said, moving toward the door and wondering who would be calling on them.

She let out a gasp when she saw the man standing there. He was rather tall, with a full head of white hair and piercing hazel eyes. He wore a muggle, grey three piece suit with a white shirt and a green tie. It was _him_. It was William. It was… "Galahad," she breathed out her friend's true given name.

He raised an eyebrow at her then stepped through the threshold and planted a firm kiss on her lips, which she returned for old times' sake despite the fact that she knew Minerva was going to give her hell later. When he let her go, he took a step back to allow for a more appropriate distance between them, at which point he cocked his head and dipped it down in a slight nod. "Guardian," he greeted, the sound of his deep timbre as he called her _that_ , just like all those years ago; all those centuries ago from his point of view. "It has been far too long, Hermione."

It was at this point that Hermione turned around and noticed that everyone else in the room was staring at her in shock, likely each of them for a different reason. She could see the anger in Minerva's eye, but also saw an effort to be understanding, or at least to hear Hermione's side of the story before assuming some kind of betrayal. The children looked more confused than anything, and Severus…

Severus looked like he was trying not to outright crack up. _Ah, yes,_ Hermione thought. _There was the snort_. Finally, the Potions Master just lost it and let out a laugh. "So much for the _pure knight_ ," he commented.

Hermione and Galahad both gave him a stern glare, at which point he promptly ceased in his mirth, though the fact that _Severus_ was made to shut up with a mere look caused all three children to start laughing in his stead.

Minerva was not laughing, but she was remaining calm so Hermione counted her blessings. "My love," she said firmly. "I do believe introductions are in order."

* * *

 **I had one reviewer speculate from hints in the last couple of chapters that I was pushing for, in addition to the Buffyverse Crossover elements, I was pulling for a Warehouse 13 crossover element. SO CLOSE, but not quite. The secondary cross over goes to "The Librarians" - and if you have not watched that show you absolutely must. The Galahad character introduced is of course "Jenkins" from The Librarians show, who is played by John Larroquette. See facebook group for more details on this merging. I simply could not resist the idea of, in a story so wrapped around magical artifacts, not adding Galahad/Jenkins to the mix. Also, yes I did in fact have him call Hermione "Guardian", and yes that implies what you think it implies. :)  
PLEASE REVIEW! **


	51. Chapter 51

**I didn't die. I just hit writer's block. Back now! Two more chapters and an epilogue to go before we reach the end of Telling Time. So close! (And yet so far away, as to quote CS Lewis, "this is just the beginning!")**

* * *

Hermione's friend William… or Galahad… or _Jenkins_ , as he seemed to be generally going by in the present had been at Hogwarts for three days now, though he had mostly kept to himself as Minerva and Hermione saw to the last of their responsibilities as Professors before Easter Break began. Most of the students had departed the afternoon before, and so here Minerva was, sitting down to morning coffee with her lover and her lover's _former_ lover. Awkward didn't even begin to cover it as far as Minerva was concerned, but she would deal with it. She'd promised to stop letting her temper get the better of her.

Despite herself, Minerva found herself liking the apparently immortal knight quite a bit, and the children had taken to him as well. Severus even, who generally didn't like anyone unless he was dragged into friendship kicking and screaming, had spent a considerable amount of his free time in the last three days sequestered away in his lab with the newcomer. "It's not every day I meet someone who knows more about brewing than I do," he had commented last evening. Minerva imagined that Leland would like him as well, as would many others Hermione and Minerva were friends with. In fact, she'd be hard pressed to think of anyone who wouldn't immediately take to this Mister Jenkins.

This of course, struck Minerva as too good to be true, and made her highly suspicious. On the other hand, Hermione was vouching for the man's lack of ill intent, and the last time Minerva had doubted her lover's judgment on someone - Leland's - character it had given her nothing but headaches, arguments, and ultimately, a big fat _told you so_ coming from her smug partner. Unless Mister Jenkins showed signs of deception or some such, Minerva swore to herself that she'd give him the benefit of the doubt. Beyond Hermione's word that he was a good man, history itself remembered him for his honor. Who was she to argue with centuries of history?

"Then Joseph grabbed the sword and was waving it wildly about…" she heard Mister Jenkins say, continuing the tale he was telling about a man Hermione had worked closely with back during the Founders Era, "... and the rogue trying to get away with the artifact just started laughing at him."

Hermione crackled. "And the bastard whipped out his sword and asked Joe if he even knew how to use a blade, and do you remember what my darling Librarian said to him, Galahad?"

The older gentleman smiled ruefully. "He declared with a great measure of bravado that according to you, your first swordplay lesson had been…"

"Stick him with the pointy end!" the two finished in union, laughing.

"Obviously your… Mister Liberman was ill prepared for the duel," Minerva commented. "How did he fare in the end of that adventure?"

"The way most adventures with a Librarian end," Mister Jenkins replied. "He was a hair away from getting beaten to a pulp and his Guardian came to the rescue."

"That would be you, Hermione?" Minerva asked, trying to clarify.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "There is always one Librarian, and one Guardian. Speaking of, Galahad, who is presently managing the Library?"

"Charlene _manages_ it, alongside Judson," he replied, earning a knowing grin from Hermione. "Though the Librarian of the moment is Jon Dinklage, and his Guardian is Kira Vash. They are a formidable pair, though they've only been together for a little over a year now. I've not had cause to meet them yet, to be honest. Of course, I stay away from the main Library these days, preferring to work on my research in the Annex."

"Or take portkeys across the ocean to visit an old friend," Minerva commented.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you're well acquainted with the difficulty in saying _no_ to Hermione, Professor," Mister Jenkins replied.

"And yet she does keep trying…" Hermione said with a small laugh.

"Scottish women are notoriously stubborn, my dear," he countered. "Perhaps you've finally met your match."

"I do believe I have."

Just then, the door to the main living quarters creaked in, and three dreary eyed teens ambled into the room, having been requested to come up directly after breakfast. By the look on the boys' faces, they'd opted to sleep in and skip breakfast, though Emma appeared to have at least one cup of tea in her already, if nothing else. Holiday prerogative, Minerva supposed.

"Good morning, children," Hermione greeted, looking amused by the bleary eyes.

"Hey mum," Harry grumped. "Minerva… Mister Jenkins."

"Mornin'..." was all that Dudley managed to grunt out.

Emma just opted to wave, making her way to the table and sitting down, grabbing the teapot and pouring herself a cup. "Nectar of the gods," she moaned, taking a sip of the still steaming liquid.

"To that, I can agree, young lady," Mister Jenkins said softly. "Though on that note I do believe you had a family meeting scheduled, so I shall take my leave. Professor Snape will likely be at my door within the hour trying to harass me into going to his lab again."

"I just can't get over how much of a puppy dog Severus is being," Hermione snickered.

"The novelty will wear off, I assure you," her friend assured. "At least, I hope so."

"Might take a few weeks," Minerva said sympathetically. "The man does swing both ways. Perhaps he's developing a crush."

Mister Jenkins looked aghast. "But I don't… do… that…"

Hermione laughed. Loudly. "What about that night with…"

"Do not mention that Hermione Granger!" Mister Jenkins said, panicked. "He was drunk, and I was moreso."

"His great-great… something is here and now," Hermione teased.

"You are an _evil_ witch," he stated haughtily. "And I've decided that the company of Severus Snape, puppy dogged as he may be at present, is far more pleasant company. I shall see you later."

The banter between Hermione and the newcomer seemed to have woken the children up the rest of the way, as the boys were now sitting at the table with tea in hand beside Emma, grinning at the byplay.

"Better than telly," Dudley remarked after Mister Jenkins had closed the door behind him.

Harry snorted in agreement to his surrogate brother's statement, though Emma cast the boys a disapproving stare that Minerva had to double take on, realizing all at once that Emma was mimicking a look she was prone to cast toward errant students. _My girl_ , she thought to herself, resisting the urge to smile.

"So, what was so direly important that we needed to the up at the crack of dawn while on Holiday?" Dudley wanted to know. "I was hoping for a lie in."

"Me too," Harry grumped.

"Me three," Emma agreed timidly. "Though I'm sure there's a good reason."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, sweetheart," Minerva teased. "In fact, we do have something we'd like to discuss with you all, regarding your positions, legally speaking, in this family."

All three kids sobered up immediately, and Dudley looked almost fearful. Minerva mentally berated herself for her approach, realizing in retrospect that while Vernon Dursley still lived, Dudley would likely always fear being sent back to his biological father. "I assure you," she amended softly, "none of you need worry that there will be any change to your present living situation."

"About gave me a heart attack there," Dudley mumbled, looking relieved.

"We'd like to legally adopt all three of you," Hermione said gently, however blunt the statement was. "At present you are all three merely legal wards, but this state means that if another potential guardian came forward wishing to claim one of you, they'd stand a fair chance of winning custody. If we adopt you, anyone else wishing for custody would have to prove us overtly unfit to raise you before having even a small chance of winning a claim."

Harry, Dudley, and Emma all looked excited at the prospect. Harry and Emma had very little to worry about, kinship wise, who might come forward and claim them, but when Minerva and Hermione had recently been discussing Dudley's lingering fears regarding his murderous father, adoption had been the most obvious choice to provide him with a stronger sense of safety. They also agreed they could not offer adoption to Dudley without offering it to the other two.

"These are entirely your decisions," Minerva continued. "Hermione is listed as primary guardian for all three of you, but should she adopt you it would be her prerogative on whom to select as a secondary guardian."

"Which would obviously be Minerva," Hermione added.

Dudley rolled his eyes. "Obviously," he intoned, mimicking Severus to the tee.

"Would that mean changing our surnames?" Harry asked gingerly. "I mean, I really do want to be adopted by you guys - no question there - but I feel like I owe it to James and Lily to keep the _Potter_ name."

"You would not be required to change your name, though if you wanted to take Slytherin that is also an option," Minerva replied.

"What about McGonagall?" Emma asked in nearly a whisper, looking up at the woman she'd once been afraid to even hug. "What if we… if I… wanted to be a McGonagall?"

Dead silence filled the room. Minerva and Hermione had discussed a million ways this conversation could go and neither of them had considered that one of the children might be interested in the surname _McGonagall_. They'd agreed, actually, that it was likely none of the kids would want to change their names at all. "That's your call, Minerva," Hermione said softly. "How about you and Emma go down to the Library and talk about it one on one. I trust your judgment."

Minerva nodded and beckoned to Emma. "Come with me sweetheart."

The boys, who had appeared decidedly unfazed by their little sister's request, both gave her thumbs up and encouraging smiles as she and Minerva made their way to the stairs leading down to the large library in the Head Tower. Minerva knew that Hermione would finish up with the boys while she and Emma spoke, and that afterwards there would be a family trip to the Ministry. Even if only one child opted to go for the legal adoption, they would all be taking part in this.

"So…" Emma prompted shyly, when the pair had settled into a couple of wingback chairs. "Would I be allowed to take the name _McGonagall_?"

Minerva sighed. "I guess I'm wondering what on earth _for_."

"Because it's yours, and you're mine," Emma said simply. "The boys...they both ended up with you guys because Hermione took them in, but my mum left me with both of you. I don't really have an attachment to the Dobbs name - it was my father's name… a man I never knew… who wasn't even technically my father… but you're real. You're here. You love me and I love you and so yeah, I want to be a McGonagall."

"Well, I really don't have any arguments on those points," she replied. "Very Ravenclaw of you."

"Also if I'm legally your daughter then I become Patrick's baby cousin and I'm pretty sure I can use that indefinitely," Emma added.

"And there would be the Slytherin poking out…" the older witch chuckled. "Also a valid point though."

Emma grinned. "So is that a yes?"

"If it is truly what you want, Emma, then by the end of the day you will legally be a McGonagall," Minerva replied.

"Thank you… mother."

"Wait a minute young lady, I did not agree to that!" Minerva yelped.

"Won't stop me from saying it," the girl grinned. "Or the boys. We all agreed, ages ago, that if adoption ever happened, we'd all start calling Hermione _mum_ and you _mother_."

Minerva sighed, realizing that she and Hermione, while thinking they were the ones dropping a surprise on the children, were in for the bigger surprise themselves today. "What of the boys, regarding surnames?" she inquired, not bothering to argue with Emma on the subject of honorifics.

"Well, Harry wants to stick to Potter," the young Ravenclaw said. "Dudley won't say for sure, but I know he and Severus have been spending a lot of time together lately, and gotten pretty close. Since Severus doesn't have any kids himself, and he is next in line for the Prince Lordship, I think Dudley hopes Severus will adopt him sometime. Not the way you guys are now - more in the context of naming him heir. He won't say it, the prat, because he doesn't want anyone to think he's after Severus' family money or prestige. All he wants is a dad who isn't a total arsehole. He wants to belong to someone, like Harry belongs to mum and I belong to you. He wants to belong to Severus."

Minerva nodded in understanding, and mentally resolved to speak to Hermione about Emma's observations. Legally, Severus could claim Dudley as his heir and it wouldn't impact the fact that he'd not legally be a parent to the boy. Minerva simply didn't trust Severus to see what was obviously in front of him - a boy who wanted to be seen as a son - and so mostly she just wanted Hermione's endorsement to go knock some sense into the Potions Master.

After chatting for a few more minutes about the history of the McGonagall family, Emma and Minerva returned back up the stairs to the main level of the Head Tower, finding that Hermione's chat with the boys was also winding down. "What did we miss?" Minerva asked.

"The boys have opted to retain their names," Hermione reported. "Though Dudley retains the right to change his mind about that down the road. Both are opting to go forward with the adoption."

"Emma also wishes to go forward with the adoption process," Minerva countered. "Though she will be taking the name _McGonagall_."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad, Min," she whispered. "Truly."

"So, when are we gunna do this thing?" Harry asked, munching on an apple.

"We'll be heading to the Ministry within the hour. Considering the occasion, I trust that you can return to your respective dorms and find something suitable to wear," Hermione answered. "For all the influence I have, the legal adoption of Harry Potter is going to draw reporters, so I expect you all to be looking smart."

All three children bolted out of their chairs, launched into hugs for their newly appointed _mum_ and _mother_ , and then raced out the door toward their dorms, intent on quick showers and wardrobe choices that did not include school uniforms.

"No running in the corridor!"

Minerva cracked a grin, hearing the cantankerous tones of Argus Filch chastising the children as they fled toward their respective dorms. She didn't really have time to wonder what he was doing in this part of the castle, this early in the morning during a Holiday break, as the next thing she heard was a knock on their door.

Hermione answer, ushering the aging squib in the door with her welcome. "Mister Filch, what can I do for you this morning?" Minerva inquired, assuming he was here on Hogwarts business.

"Actually, ma'am, I was hoping to speak with you and Professor Slytherin," he said, eying Hermione who had started to make for the other room in an offering of privacy. Sort of Order related business."

"Sort of?" Hermione inquired, returning back toward the kitchen, and ushering her lover and their guest into the living room, where they all sat. "Argus, whatever it is I'm sure we can assist…"

"My name ain't Argus," the squib said, letting out a deep breath. "It ain't Filch neither. That's just a cover I've been living under for… oh… too long. Since I came of age and my mum couldn't tell me no anymore."

"No to what, exactly?" Minerva asked, brow furrowing.

"To coming into the Wizarding world," he replied. "My dad's a wizard, mum's a muggle. I'm obviously a squib, so when the ol' man got shipped off to Azkaban, well, mum took me into the muggle world to hide."

"What's your real name?" Hermione asked softly. Minerva imagined Hermione was asking herself the the same question she was asking _herself_ ; what Death Eater sired the man they'd known all these years as Argus Filch?

"Douglas," he replied. "Douglas Umbridge. Last Order meeting you said Dolores has joined the light against the Dark Lord. I was wondering if you might be willing to arrange a meeting between me and my sister."

Minerva's jaw dropped. "Umbridge?" she uttered.

"You think I was actually helping her at start of term?" the squib questioned. "Dolores hasn't seen her _brother_ since he was a young man. I was working for Dumbledore… he had me keeping an eye on her, you see. Seemed fair to help him, as he'd set up my change of identity and employment since and all that."

"I'm honestly at a loss for words," Hermione said quietly. "Very little surprises me, Mister… _Umbridge_ , but this is honestly a revelation I am just…"

"Loss for words and all that?" the squib finished.

Minerva rolled her eyes, and took a deep, centering breath. While her instinct was to hex the living shite out of Argus, or rather _Douglas_ , simply for being related to Albus Dumbledore's killer, she knew she could not in good conscience judge him for his sister's sins. The lying part, about his identity, was certainly going to shake her trust in the man from here on out, but logically she knew that he was not the first to change his identity, or to simply hide away, for self-preservation. Eileen Prince had done that, and Minerva had helped her do it. This was not unlike what Albus had evidently helped the man before her now do. Ultimately, she'd had no reason to distrust the Hogwarts caretaker in all these years, however seemingly foul his attitude frequently was, and she saw no real reason to doubt him now. Ultimately, his name didn't matter. His choices did.

"Obviously it is Hermione who would need to facilitate a meeting with your sister," Minerva stated, "given her undercover status. But you'd have my support… Douglas."

"It's odd to be called that, after all these years," he replied. "But I'm done hiding. Every contact I have says war is brewing, and I'm willing to bet that at some point, attacks will begin like they did the last time. Headmistress, Dumbledore shared with me - before his death - that a Wardling like yourself has the ability to shift some of the base charms that cover Hogwarts, allowing Muggles to see the castle and so forth. I don't know if my sister has even considered the notion, but with that Azkaban breakout a while back, our dear ol' dad is likely in the ranks of the Dark Lord again, and it's only a matter of time before he goes after my mum. Would you be willing to alter the wards so that she can come here? I'm sure I'm not the only person in this school with muggle loved ones they'd want to see protected…"

Hermione cleared her throat. "If he's right, and you _can_ do that Min, I'd feel better if… the childrens' grandparents were here as well."

Minerva nodded in understanding. Hermione was unwilling to utter the name _Granger_ in front of Argus Filch, now known as Douglas Umbridge, but she did want the parents of the girl she'd once been to be safely behind the protection Hogwarts could offer. Even if nobody made a connection between Hermione Slytherin and the muggle couple who had a deceased, muggleborn child, the fact that the couple in question had produced a magical child could turn them into targets. "I can make the alterations this afternoon."

"Regarding a meeting with your sister," Hermione said, turning her attention back to their guest, "She will be at the next Order meeting. If you are available to come to that meeting as well - you'd have to formally join the Order - then I'd imagine you can speak to her then. While this would be ideal for everyone involved, I do not want you to feel pressured to join the Order just to have this meeting, or as a price to the protection of your mother, or even as some sense of loyalty to Albus' memory. The choice is yours to make, and if you'd prefer not to join the Order, I can arrange another way for you and Delores to reunite."

"I appreciate your not pressuring and all," he said with a wry grin, "but I didn't leave the relative safety of the muggle world and work here all these years for shites and giggles. I was in the Order under Dumbledore, and I'm not the only one who thinks you make a far better Head of the Order than he ever did. Of course I'm joining the damned Order."

The conversation with the squib continued for a short while longer, concluding with the man's decision that while he wanted to reclaim his given name - _Douglas_ \- that he was perfectly content being rid of his bastard father's surname. From now on, the Hogwarts caretaker would be known as Douglas Filch. Minerva made a mental note to correct her records to that effect. Before he left, Minerva and Douglas agreed to meet later about how best to explain his change of addressment to the rest of the staff without revealing his relation to Dolores. As Hermione pointed out, while they would not judge him based on the kinship to Dumbledore's killer, that others may, and so a full reveal would potentially put him at risk. As a squib, he was hardly able to really defend himself against a witch or wizard's attack.

Shortly after Douglas' departure, the children returned to the Head Tower and the group made their way to Minerva's office, to Floo to the Ministry. Right after their arrival there, in the atrium, Harry elbowed Hermione. "Mum… how long is this gunna take?"

Hermione smiled softly. "It's about half hour worth of paperwork for each of you, so at least ninety minutes before we're heading out and back to Hogwarts."

"I was kind of rushing to get ready and didn't really stop to go to the loo," the dark haired boy said sheepishly. "Is there one nearby I can use before we get started with the adoption stuff?"

Dudley cleared his throat. "Same here."

Minerva sighed. "Of course, there's a bathroom just up here."

"I'll take Emma to the lady's, if you'll escort the boys to the gentlemen's," Hermione offered proactively, eyeing the girl who just blushed in return. The children, it seemed, had all neglected that step of getting ready in the wake of their excitement.

"Meet at the fountain?" Minerva asked, knowing then the men and women's facilities were located a fair distance apart.

"That suits me," her partner agreed.

Minerva had been pondering the notion, as she waiting for the boys to return from the bathroom - and goodness, had they _fallen in_? - that if she was quite lucky, then this delay would be the only hiccup in their plan. That reality was shattered to bits when Dudley poked his head out of the bathroom, looked both ways, and warily walked over to where she was waiting. Without Harry.

"Where is your brother?" she asked sternly, almost afraid to know what sort of mischief they'd managed to find in the bloody loo.

"You know the bloke who took care of me after Petunia died, and helped get things sorted so I could come live with you and mum?" Dudley said quietly. "Mister Bowman?"

"Yes…" Minerva said slowly, knowing the name and his general character by what Hermione had told her, though not having ever met the man personally. "What about him?"

"He's hiding in the bathroom," Dudley explained in a whisper. "Says that the new team of Aurors mum talked about - the Inquisitorial Squad - are after him for helping muggles and muggleborns. He's afraid they'll catch him if they see him trying to leave the Ministry. He tried to Floo to his flat an hour ago but the place had been sacked, so he's afraid to go stay there. He doesn't want to risk any of his friends' lives by going to one of their places, but Harry reckons that Hogwarts would be safe for him. Those tossers couldn't get at him there."

Minerva's expression was grave. She'd heard from various sources that the Ministry was falling more and more into chaos, and a quick glance around allowed her to pick out several men and women in Auror robes, but sporting a badge that she did not recognize. Presumably, these were members of this newly formed _Inquisitorial Squad_. "He would be safe at Hogwarts," she agreed with Dudley and Harry's assessment. "Though I'm unsure how to even get him there without causing a scene, likely involving a duel, which I'm not prepared to do with you boys and your sister in the middle of it. I'm certain your mum would agree."

"Harry's got his cloak," Dudley informed her. "Said he brought it in case the press got too out of hand. But Mister Bowman can use it, follow us to do the adoption stuff, and then just follow us out. No one would know he was there, and as we're here on official business, our coming and going won't really be noted by anyone but the press."

That's a solid plan, Mister Dursley," Minerva praised in her teacher tone. "Do go tell your brother and Mister Bowman to come out. Come directly to me - I'm going to walk over to the fountain just over there - and tell our guest to touch my arm when you reach me. I'll cast _notice-me-not_ charms on all of us to limit anyone's interest in us a bit further. Now, while you boys manage that, I'm going to tell my partner we're taking in another stray."

"Always wanted a big brother," Dudley said cheekily.

"Off with you!" Minerva teased back, despite the knot in her stomach.

To Minerva's surprise, the boys' simple plan really was that simple. Atticus Bowman had very quietly expressed his gratitude to her and Hermione as she'd placed some extra protective charms around him and the children, and the party of six made their way upstairs to the clerks' office to complete the adoption paperwork. The additional change of Emma's surname took about fifteen extra minutes than Minerva had anticipated, but all said and done from flooing into the Ministry to flooing back to Hogwarts only took two hours time.

For the night, Atticus camped in Dudley's room and Dudley bunked with Harry at the older teen's instance. Dudley seemed to think it was fair, given that the wizard social worker had offered him a safe environment in the wake of Petunia's death, that he return the favor in Mister Bowman's time of need for safety. After the newcomer and the children were settled in for the night, all exhausted from the events of the day - which had included Occlumency lessons with Severus and a meetup with the Order kids for the children, and an escorted trip to Atticus' flat to collect some of his things for the adults in the Tower tonight - Hermione and Minerva finally found five minutes to talk as they crawled wearily into bed.

"Atticus is not likely the only person in need of sanctuary right now," Hermione mused. "And the boys were right - Hogwarts is basically untouchable compared to most other places people might flee to. International portkey transport is regulated by the Ministry, so getting people out of the country will be difficult."

"Are you suggesting making Hogwarts into some sort of refugee camp?" Minerva inquired with a raised eyebrow. "I can hardly run a school with hundreds of extra people hanging about…"

"Well obviously it would have to be organized in a manner which allowed you to keep running the school," Hermione agreed. "But at this point, only perhaps forty percent of classroom spaces are in use, and many of the ones in use could be doubled up to offer even more space."

"Refugees means families," the Headmistress countered. "Which means younger children running about. If we did open Hogwarts to refugees, I'd have to insist on some of the adults stepping in as temporary teachers, and some of the classroom space being used for younger childrens' classes. Unoccupied youngsters are a recipe for trouble, and this school is not exactly childproof for children that young."

"I think people would be receptive of that," Hermione agreed. "Those elementary classes would also free up many of the adults to potentially be recruited to the Order, or at least contributing to the increased manpower needed to keep things from turning into chaos around here."

"I'd have to draw up a terms of agreement - a governing system to which people would be held accountable," the Scottish witch mused. "As we can hardly expect people burned by the Ministry to adhere to Ministry laws."

"Were you planning on stepping in as Minister of Magic on top of being Headmistress?" Hermione jibed. "Or will you allow someone else to be in charge of this newly formed governing body?"

"I wasn't planning on turning Hogwarts into a circus," Minerva chuckled. "But as Mister Jenkins pointed out this morning, saying _no_ to you is a nearly fruitless exercise. More to the point, the need exists and I cannot turn a blind eye to that, however horribly inconvenient this latest plan of yours will be. And no, I will not be running this mess. Nor will you, as your responsibility is to the Order. Someone with a political or legal background would be more appropriate besides the point. Perhaps Robert."

"Or Guowei Chang," Hermione suggested. "Cho Chang's father?"

"Yes, that's an option too," Minerva agreed, recalling the man who worked with Robert, but specialized in international affairs. At the least, Barrister Chang may be able to help us figure out how to get some of those who come here shifted to other countries."

"When we were constructing the Room of Requirement," Hermione mused, "Helga speculated that if other wizarding locations utilized the same set of charms, that a passageway between the rooms might be possible. Not unlike a Vanishing Cabinet with a twin. Nadine may know if that idea was ever utilized. Even if only one other place used the spell set, it could potentially get hundreds to a place where transport elsewhere was less restricted."

"Worth looking into," Minerva said, yawning. "On that note, darling, I am exhausted and we can continue this conversation in the morning."

"Alright," the younger woman agreed, snuggling close to her lover's slender form. "I love you."

"Love you too," Minerva replied, eyes flitting closed. "Crazy witch that you are…"

"Crazy for you," Hermione murmured.

And that, Minerva thought before drifting off, was something she was truly grateful for.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW! What did you guys think of the plot twist for this chapter?**


	52. Chapter 52

**Oh. My. Gosh (Becky) we are down to ONE more chapter and then the epilogue before this story is DONE! I'm super excited! Are you guys super excited? To be honest, while this is a HUGE milestone for me, to be able to mark a story this long as complete , my excitement is more about how this story has been the proverbial leg work and development for the rest of the series. You think I had plot twists in Telling Time? *giggle* I'm just getting started, folks. Hold on to your seats!**

* * *

Hermione pressed a quick kiss to Minerva's lips. "I'm going down to the library for a short while," she said. "I really do need to speak with Nadine, and between Mister Bowman's arrival and the adoption, I just haven't had the chance. How long until we need to head out?"

"Within the hour," Minerva replied. "But if you need longer I'm certain Miranda will forgive our tardiness."

"I shouldn't be half that long," Hermione promised.

"I think Remus and Filius are down there as well. Oh, and Janet. Remus was by while you were in the shower to ask permission to take her to see our _fabulous collection_ , as he put it."

Hermione chuckled. "Whether or not Nadine has any idea about the Room of Requirement being a connecting point to other locations, that's a solid group to brainstorm with as to other means to get refugees out of the country."

"True," Minerva agreed. "I'll see you in a bit."

Hermione pressed one more kiss to Minerva's lips, whispering a promise that they'd make time for _more_ soon, and then she was down the staircase to the library within the Head Tower. As Hermione had expected, Remus, Filus, and Janet were huddled together with a pile of books in the larger of the two office areas. Conveniently this was the same room where Nadine's second portrait was hanging. "Good morning Remus, Filus, Janet," she greeted, before turning to address her adoptive mother. Godric had been her brother in all but blood, and the relationship with the widowed Nadine had flowered in a familial context as well. "Hello Nadine."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "The Fat Lady has a name?"

Nadine bristled. "Of course I have a bloody name. I wasn't hatched! Just because none of you little cubs ever bothered to ask after it doesn't mean I didn't have one."

Hermione's lips pressed into a sly grin, knowing that the introduction she was about to give was going to throw Remus into a fit of admiration, and Filius into a state of adoration. Hermione didn't really know Janet Hammond well enough to speculate how she might react. "Everyone, may I present the Lady Nadine Gryffindor, mother of Godric and once and always guardian of the tower dedicated to her son's legacy."

All three jaws dropped.

"Really, Hermione," Nadine chastised, blushing a little. "I know you were sorted to Godric's house but it really is no surprise you were Salazar's bride. Bold and cunning are a lethal combination. That said, I'm sure you didn't drop by without a purpose. How can I help you, my dear?"

"Before I left, the others and I were discussing the possibility that if the charms used to make the Room of Requirement were utilized in other highly magical buildings, that there may be a way to create a passage between two places, regardless of distance between. Not unlike a Vanishing Cabinet with a twin. My question for you is if you have any knowledge that this theory was tested, or better yet, implemented."

Nadine nodded. "The Heads of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Ilvermorny, and Mahoutokoro all created their own Rooms directly after your departure. As Godric said it, he believed it was their way of honoring your memory, given how much time and effort you put into developing it. I do not know for certain if the concept of a passage between was ever explored or tested, but the base charm work is done, or at least was. One assumes they've not been dismantled."

"That's a start, and a great help," Hermione said. "Thank you, Nadine."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Remus suddenly snapped. "This is Nadine _Gryffindor_?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes, Remus."

"And you are suggesting that there may be a way to access four international schools of magic via the Room of Requirement?" Filius gaped.

"That's the idea," Hermione smiled.

"I can think of a dozen ways off the top of my head that could be useful," Janet breathed out. "Access to supplies, smuggling people out of the country… it would be like a Wizarding version of the Underground Railroad."

"The what?" Hermione asked, in a rare instance a reference came up with which she was unfamiliar.

"Muggle America in the eighteen sixties," Remus supplied. "Slavery was a key point in the American Civil War. The south wanted to keep slavery, and the north wanted to abolish it. Those between the south and the north who believed slaves should be free coordinated a series of safe houses which had secret passages or rooms where slaves could hide to rest along their flight north. It was named _The Underground Railroad_."

"It actually existed years before the war began - some believe as early as eighteen hundred," Janet added. "Scholars speculate that as many as one hundred thousand slaves made it north to freedom using that route."

Hermione nodded, agreeing with Janet's comparison now that she had a frame of reference. "The trick here will be getting the _current_ heads of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Ilvermorny, and Mahoutokoro to agree to facilitate this effort. I will be bringing up the issue at the next Order meeting, but with the rising tensions it's a matter of time before people - not only Order members and their families, but people in general - will be seeking refuge and protection. Portkeys are monitored by the Ministry and the Ministry is falling fast to Voldemort's corruption. Minerva and I agree that Hogwarts would be a safe place for people to come, and while we can keep a fair amount of people here, we can't house the entire wizarding population."

"And it would be unwise to try and hide people under Fidelius," Remus concluded, likely thinking of the fate of Lily and James Potter. "So we have to get them out of Britain."

"Igor Karkaroff owes me a debt," Hermione stated, "which I can call in to get him to open Durmstrang to us. But I need at least one of the others to help as well, or we'll just be painting a target on Igor's back when Voldemort puts the pieces together that there's been a great influx of British citizens showing up in Norway."

"I've got some contacts in Ilvermorny still," Janet put in.

"And I have a standing relationship with Madam Maxime," Remus offered. "I can convince her to help; I'm almost sure of that. If Janet's contacts in America don't pan out, I have some I can utilize there as well. Werewolf laws in Wizarding America are much less strict than here in Britain. Actually, the UK is about the only country with such restrictive laws for werewolves. France welcomes diversity with the same intensity that pureblood society here loathes it."

"When this war is over," Hermione said to her friend, "I promise you that things will change here, too. I will make certain you never have to worry about your lycanthropy getting in the way of you building a life."

"Do try not to mother me, Hermione," Remus jibed.

"Try to stop me," she teased.

Filius looked thoughtful. "Didn't the Changs just join the Order? Perhaps Guowei can help with Mahoutokoro. His daughter attends here, of course, but he and his wife both attended Mahoutokoro. He came here to be a liaison and ended up finding permanent work and staying."

"That's a good idea," Hermione agreed. "That said, we will discuss this in length at the the next meeting. I do need to get back upstairs to my partner. We're heading into London to pick up dress robes for the wedding this afternoon."

"I still can't believe Tonks is getting married," Remus groaned. "She was a child, what, five minutes ago?"

"Minerva said much the same about Patrick," Hermione chuckled. "Alas, children grow up and it's perfectly natural for them to seek life long companionship as they do."

"Yes, I'm sure you'll find it _perfectly natural_ , when Harry, Dudley, and Emma are getting married," Filius teased.

Hermione looked at the Charms Professor with a haughty expression. "For your information, I am adapting quite well to the notion that Ron Weasley will one day be my son-in-law."

"How about the notion of being related to Molly by marriage?" Remus teased.

Her expression faltered. "Still working on that. Though Harry assures me there will be no talk of weddings until after the war is over, so I have time."

Remus, Filius, and Janet all laughed. "Would you like the statistics of the late war baby boom during Voldemort's first rise?" the medi-witch inquired. "Grandma?"

"Oh dear lord," Hermione groaned. "I do not want to be called that any time in the near future."

"We'll see how that works out for you," Filius said to his colleague, patting Janet on the shoulder as she was nearly doubling over with laughter.

"You're a bunch of tossers," the Head of the Order declared. "Nonetheless I bid you all a good day."

With that, laughter still pealing in the background, Hermione left the office with a wave at Nadine and made her way back to the stairs which would lead her to her and Minerva's quarters. She'd made it to the top of the stairs when she heard voices - Minerva and Amelia Bones, it sounded like - and so she opted to sit tight and listen, not wanting to disrupt a conversation that really needed to happen.

"Madam Bones," Minerva greeted tersely. "What can I help you with?"

"Really, Minerva?" Amelia said softly. "Must you be so formal?"

The tension in Minerva's body, Hermione could see from her vantage point, eased a bit. "Very well… Amelia. I was just… surprised to find you calling on me."

"As am I, to be honest," the other woman replied. "But I was somewhat strong-armed into it."

"Hermione," Minerva concluded. "What on earth motivated her to…"

"I'm getting married, Minerva," Amelia stated firmly. "And Madam Slytherin believed - and I agree - that you did not deserve to be blindsided by that, or to hear of it second hand."

"Oh," the Scottish witch let out in a whisper. "I see. Who is your intended, if I may ask?"

"Sirius Black."

Minerva let out a chuckle at that, though Hermione knew it was a bittersweet moment of mirth. "So the boy was married to the woman I'm involved with presently, and is now engaged to the woman I was with years ago."

Amelia smirked. "The fact that he views you as a mother doesn't help his level of awkward at the notion."

Minerva seemed surprised that Sirius viewed her as such, but made no comment of it. Hermione resolved to bring up the topic to her partner at a later date. Not today, but soon.

"Why now? Why tell me now?" Minerva asked her former lover.

"I've been meaning to talk to you for months, but as I'll be Sirius' plus one at the wedding this afternoon, I couldn't justify putting it off any longer. I spent so many years believing that what we had was long done and past… I didn't consider that you might have some lingering feelings until your partner opted to enlighten me. For that, I'm sorry. We should have had a conversation… closure… years ago."

Minerva sighed. "I am… happy for you, Amelia. Sirius is a rotten mongrel of a man but below that external image, I know he's honorable and caring. I can see why you might fall in love with him. Only a fool wouldn't see your worth, and Sirius is not foolish. Most of the time."

"And you, Minerva?" Amelia asked. "Does… Hermione make you happy?"

The Head of the Order stiffened at the question, almost afraid of the answer. Did she make Minerva happy? Or was she just filling a void for her that Amelia had left gaping?

"She does," Minerva replied. "She's the first thing I think of when I wake, and the last thing as I go to sleep. When she's not here, I worry constantly, because she always puts others before herself and it would be no surprise to one day get word that she sacrificed her own life to save others. She's my everything, and in the last few months, I've really come to understand that you were right to end our relationship. We were headed in different directions and who we are today…"

"Wouldn't be compatible in the romantic context," Amelia finished, nodding in agreement. "I'm glad, Minerva, really. I always felt you deserved more than I could offer, and it's gratifying to learn you've finally found the one for you. You have the family you always wanted now… which I was never willing to provide."

"I presume Sirius is also disinclined to have children," Minerva commented.

The other woman nodded. "As far as he's considered, it's time for the Blacks to die out. Perhaps the Bones line will live on through Susan when she finishes growing up."

"Perhaps," Minerva agreed.

There was an awkward pause as each woman realized that all that needed said _had_ been said, and all that was left was goodbye. "I should go," Amelia finally said. "I believe your partner has been eavesdropping at the door over there and I expect you two have things to take care of before the wedding. Maybe the next McGonagall wedding will be your own."

Minerva turned, back having been to the door Hermione was hiding behind, and offered a half hearted glare. "Yes, well, she does take pride in knowing everything before anyone else. Come on out of there, my love."

Hermione groaned, making a mental note to have Severus help her hone her stealth skills. "Hi there," she said cheerfully. "Madam Bones, a pleasure to see you."

"Pleasure most assuredly stemming from your getting your way," the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement bantered. "That said, I take my leave. I'll see you both this afternoon."

"Thank you, Amelia," Minerva said, "for coming to tell me about you and Sirius. I appreciate the courtesy."

"You're welcome," Amelia replied. "Stay safe, Manx. I still don't want to be going to your funeral."

Minerva chuckled lightly at that. "I'll try."

After Amelia had closed the door behind her, Hermione couldn't resist the urge to inquire over the apparent pet name. "Manx?"

"A breed of cat, and close phonetically to _minx_. Amelia gave me the name as a tease over the evolution of our relationship from friends to lovers, and one too many of our fellow Aurors heard it, and the name stuck. My code name on missions when I was still on the force was _Manx_ as a result," Minerva explained.

"I didn't realize you were ever on the Auror force," Hermione said, frowning a little.

"I wasn't, officially. But while I was working through my mastery program from fifty-four to fifty six…"

"Ambitious, completing a level one mastery in only two years…" Hermione interjected.

Minerva smirked at that. "Time-turner was helpful in that endeavor. Anyway, during those two years I held a consultant position at the Ministry, and went on missions which required Transfiguration expertise or an element of stealth that I learned from Leland when I was still very young."

"Speaking of Leland, I've been meaning to ask you if you happened to know what year he was born," Hermione stated, remembering her revelation that the man in question was a Vampire. She'd not had five minutes of time to dig up any information on when that happened, how it happened, and by what means he was able to walk in broad daylight.

"Eighteen twenty-seven," Minerva replied, "though I have no earthly idea how he manages to stay looking so young. He'd pass as a sixty or seventy year old wizard with no problem, but he's a hundred years older than that. As a child I thought perhaps he was a Vampire - he's even got the slightly pointed canines - but he walks around in broad daylight so that can't be it."

"He insinuated to me a few weeks ago that he was indeed a Vampire," Hermione confided, "though he's been out of the castle on a mission since a few days after that conversation so I haven't had a chance to talk to him about it in more detail."

"You may want to talk to Rupert Giles about it," Minerva suggested. "His family legacy - the Watchers - includes dealing primarily with Vampires. There may be a breed offshoot, or even an artifact, to allow a Vampire to walk in daylight."

"If an artifact might be the answer, Galahad might have some ideas too," Hermione contributed thoughtfully. "It's a start. I'm not expecting Leland back till the next Order meeting so I can't just ask him."

"And your curiosity is killing you, I'm sure. Can't even wait a few more days."

"I could… if I wanted to," Hermione grinned.

"Well, dearest, I do believe we had some errands to run. Should we be suited up in case of unexpected dueling?"

"I'd say yes. If for no other reason than I do not want to be the one to make Jackie and Malcolm late for their only son's wedding because they were busy patching us up."

"I wouldn't risk Jackie's wrath," Minerva commented. "Worse comes to worst, I'll have Janet patch me up."

"Plus side, she'll likely be in the Library with Remus and Filius until it's time to get ready for the wedding, so at least we'll know where to find her."

"True."

The two women quickly geared up and were flooing from the Head's Office to the Three Broomsticks ten minutes later. The Three Broomsticks had only just reopened under the management of Ellen Umbridge. Hermione and Douglas had agreed that hiding the muggle woman in plain sight with a cover story would be more effective than trying to sequester her in the castle proper. For the time being, Ellen Umbridge was known as Ellen Dourif, a Squib sister of Leland's. Given Leland's standing connection to Rosmerta, it was a believable candidate that patrons of the Three Broomsticks would accept to take Rosmerta's place while Emma finished growing up. Calling her a Squib meant they didn't have to explain why she didn't use magic, but didn't identify as she truly was - a muggle.

"Hello Ellen," Hermione greeted the new proprietress kindly. Despite her reservations about the woman who'd married a Death Eater and mothered the murderer of Albus Dumbledore, she couldn't help but like the woman. She was very kind, reasonably intelligent, and one might guess a relation to Severus sooner than a relation to the Umbridge siblings if her wit was anything to go on.

"Hermione, Minerva," Ellen greeted. "Where are you two heading off to?"

"Diagon Alley to pick up dress robes for the wedding this afternoon," Minerva supplied.

"I've been meaning to ask, Ellen," Hermione said, ushering the woman in question into a quiet corner. "There is a muggle couple, and a muggle man, which I would like to see to the protection of. How would you feel about them staying here?"

"Well it would be nice to not be the only one around here who can't use magic," the woman mused. "I would ask that if you do place them here, that you also station an Order member to pose as another long term guest. With more of us here, presumably also people who are needing to hide, then the target just becomes bigger. If there was an attack, none of us would be able to defend ourselves effectively."

"What about using Wyatt?" Minerva suggested. "I doubt he'd complain about being closer to Ophelia, and when she graduates she can join him here."

"Good idea," Hermione agreed. "Ellen, I'll have Auror Zabini report to you after the Order meeting coming up. I'll escort you to the meeting so you can have that chat with your daughter, and he can bring you back. I'll have John and Jean moved here as soon as Wyatt is settled in, and then Tobias as well as soon as I can find the bugger."

"Tobias Snape?" Ellen asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione frowned. "Now how would you know that name?"

"SOMI Group," Ellen explained. "Spouses of Magical Individuals. It's a support network for muggles and squibs who have married witches or wizards, especially those who have magical children in that union. I was with Orford, and Tobias was with Eileen. We… got on well enough. Delores and Severus were the same year at Hogwarts, and Toby never did meet her, nor have I met Severus, but Douglas went to meetings with me sometimes. This time of year he's likely over at Woolacombe Beach. Likes to go early in the season before there's too many people about."

"I'll look there, thank you," Hermione said gratefully. She'd already checked every bar, motel, and place Severus had suggested his father might be working. Neither of them had considered he might be enjoying the beach.

"You two scoot then. I'm going to have to go talk to that mediwitch friend of yours - Janet I think her name was - about ways to get Tobias sober once and for all. I'll not have him and his drunken ways running about and ruining business. I'll help him get sober. Still baffles me that Eileen just took his drinking problems in stride like it was no problem."

The two women apparated to Diagon Alley, stopping briefly in to check in with Darsie Eeylop before heading over to pick up the dress robes from Miranda Malkin. As expected, the aging witch chastised them for being tardy, but clucked over them during the fitting anyway, assuring them that there would be dire consequence if they went anywhere but to her for their own wedding gowns when it came to that. Hermione hadn't even been aware that Miranda knew she and Minerva were an item, and said so.

Miranda claimed she'd heard from Garrett Ollivander, who'd heard it from his sister Esther, who'd heard it from their mother Elizabeth, who'd learned about the coupling when she and Garrick had gone to supper with Poppy Pomfrey, Algie Fawley, and Robert McGonagall a few weeks before. It had evidently been the talk of the evening, and now all of Diagon Alley knew they were a couple. Minerva seemed aghast that they were the talk of the rumor mill, though Hermione had always known it was just a matter of time before it was common knowledge, and it wasn't as if they wouldn't be seen together at the wedding this afternoon anyway. A part of Hermione was glad someone else had blown the proverbial whistle, so she didn't have to face the shock and whatever type of reaction might have followed. By now, every woman and most of the men in the wizarding world knew that the Head of Hogwarts and the Head of the Order were an item.

So be it.

The couple had nearly made it back to the Leaky Cauldron, when they happened upon a familiar face. "Perenelle," Minerva greeted.

Hermione knew that Minerva knew Perenelle Flamel fairly well, having met her and her husband Nicolas through Albus directly after her graduation from Hogwarts. It had been Perenelle that had been the Transfiguration Mistress under whom Minerva had gained her mastery, though most of the Wizarding world believed she'd gained it under Albus himself. Truthfully, Albus had gained his own Transfiguration Mastery under Perenelle as well. The departed Headmaster had never known life without the Flamels, as they had been friendly with the Dumbledore family for generations. As the story went, Hermione recalled Albus sharing with her not long after her return to the present timeline, the Dumbledore family of the early thirteenth century had been approached by Perenelle the afternoon their firstborn son was born - Wolfric Dumbledore - the mysterious witch claiming that she was meant to be godmother to the boy. In every generation since, right up to Albus himself, the firstborn son's godmother was Perenelle Flamel.

"Minerva," the elderly woman greeted softly. "It's good to see you. And you, Madam Slytherin."

"Please, call me _Hermione_ ," the woman in question offered. "With as close to my partner as you are, it makes little sense to keep formality between us."

Though Perenelle schooled her features well, there was a momentary widening of her eyes, indicating surprise at learning they were a couple. _Good lord_ , Hermione thought. _I thought we just covered that the entire Wizarding world knew about us_. "Of course, Hermione," she corrected herself after a pause. "Minerva, I do believe you've been holding out information on me. How long as _this_ been going on? Too busy shagging like cats in heat to drop a letter to me, hmm?"

Minerva blushed. "We were keeping it quiet, though we've been together for some time. While I was unsure of the idea at first, Albus was a bit of a nag about it."

Perenelle laughed. "Of bloody course. Interfering was his fate. From the day he was born he was sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Not to say I disapprove. You could have done much worse than the widow of Salazar Slytherin."

"Indeed."

"So how much does that notion smart at your Gryffindor sensibilities?" came a teasing question.

"Quite a bit, actually," Minerva scowled. "Thanks for the reminder."

Hermione chuckled. "You know, Perenelle, I've been meaning to ask. When we briefly crossed paths at Albus' will reading, I thought you looked very familiar, though I couldn't place you. Have we met before, to your memory?"

The other witch's eyes sparkled. "I travel a good deal, and as I hear it you have as well. That said, you've only just resurfaced in Britain and I've been in Canada for the last four years working for a private research firm. Perhaps we crossed paths years and years ago. The rumor mill, of course, has no confirmation as to how you managed to survive the ages without aging. If your process included actually living out all that time, then I'd be surprised if we _hadn't_ sometime crossed paths. Technically speaking, you've been around longer than I have."

Hermione frowned, knowing that unless her younger self had crossed paths with present day Perenelle Flamel and she was not remembering, they couldn't have met before. Hermione was in the past and gone from it before this woman had even been born, if she was being truthful about her age. She could be lying, Hermione supposed, but she had a hard time believing that of this old woman. It would be like accusing your great-grandmother of being involved in a drug ring. The idea was ludicrous. Still, she was not about to reveal the truth of her identity or her means of surviving the ages with Perenelle. While she did trust Minerva's judgment, she hardly knew this woman and was loathe to just blow her cover without any cause save her own nagging feeling she'd met Perenelle before.

Still, she was curious, and by the way Perenelle was looking at Hermione now, the Head of the Order had a hunch that Perenelle knew _something_ and was still holding her tongue. The real question here was simply one of why.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	53. Chapter 53

**The beginning of the end of Telling Time, folks. A special shoutout to "Jenna", as she correctly assessed me as evil for teasing about this chapter. :P**

* * *

Minerva looked up, startled, as Hermione rushed into their quarters with Hagrid right on her tail. "Goblin, Centaur, Merfolk, Sphinx, Griffin, Basilisk, Dragon, Badger, Giant, House-Elf, Werewolf, Vampire," Hermione listed in a rush.

"Won't be able ter get 'em all, not on short notice," Hagrid said gruffly.

Minerva was about to ask what on earth was going on when Galahad, Rupert, Remus, and Leland all hurried in.

"What's happened?" Remus asked, looking worried.

"I need to assemble a small council meeting of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and I need it to happen now," Hermione replied sharply. "I need at least fourteen of them today, though the rest can be organized in the next week or two."

"Hermione, the Sacred Twenty-Eight are greatly composed of Death Eaters," Remus countered. "Some of those lines are extinct."

Hermione huffed. "I'm not talking about the Sacred Twenty-Eight as so-called by the pureblood families. I'm talking about…"

"That explains my presence," Galahad cut in. "I'll be needing to contact the Librarian and his Guardian, I take it."

"And I'll be contacting the Watchers Council," Rupert said with a sigh. "Hermione, there hasn't been a proper meeting of the Sacred Twenty-Eight in several hundred years."

"You'll have to forgive me for not being alright with the economic and social chaos that will leave the wizarding world in a great depression should I _not_ reform the small council," the Head of the Order said coolly. "I cannot believe you people let the old traditions die out. It was designed for exactly this sort of thing!"

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Minerva asked, finally finding her tongue. Remus nodded in agreement, though Rupert, Leland, and Galahad all seemed to be in the proverbial loop already.

Hermione sighed. "The Sacred Twenty-Eight is a group of twelve representatives of magical beings, twelve wizarding families of good standing in the opinions of those assembling said small council, along with two leaders of governing bodies within the wizarding world, the current Librarian, and a representative from the Watchers Council. It's a healthy blend of all major branches of the magical community as a whole, who band together in time of crisis to prevent economic and social collapse during and after said crisis. The group was formed about three hundred years before the Founding of Hogwarts, as a response to what we now refer to as _the Dark Ages_. They wanted to prevent such a devastating social collapse from happening again and again, as sadly, war is inevitable as history develops."

"So had this group been active during Grindelwald's rise and fall…" Minerva started, understanding dawning.

"Then the economic crisis that swept the world at the time might have been avoided," Hermione confirmed.

"Bloody hell," she muttered. "So who all do we need?"

"Wizarding families who were represented in previous small councils take priority so long as they remain in good standing," Leland put in. "Which at the moment, means Black, Fawley, Longbottom, Ollivander, Shacklebolt, and Weasley, at least as far as I'm concerned."

"Black won't be possible, as the accords state there must be progeny to carry on the line," Hermione frowned. "And Sirius has no children and is the only Black left with the name. Same goes for Fawley, as Algie doesn't have children."

"Living, no. But he does have two grandchildren he might name heir if he'd acknowledge them. You'd have to talk to him, Hermione." Leland stated cryptically. "Longbottom's not of age yet, but if the Goblins don't protest much, his grandmother may be able to take the seat for him until he does."

"Shacklebolt is out as well, I'm afraid," Hermione said, looking at the floor. "As Kingsley, along with Alastor Moody, died half an hour ago, just after getting word to me that the Ministry has officially fallen. The battle… if all Order members who were working at the Ministry had not desisted in doing so in recent months, we'd have lost half our members today, if not more."

Dead silence filled the room, as the implications sank in. Remus was the first to speak, though his voice came out in a croak. He had been close to both Kingsley and Alastor. "How many of the twenty-eight did you say we need to call this meeting?"

"At least half," Hermione replied softly. "Goblins never say no to the Sacred Twenty-Eight being called on, nor do the Centaurs, Dragons, Badgers, Vampires, or House-Elves. Librarian and Watcher representatives are magically, contractually bound to send envoys at the least. I agree with the five families Leland listed, as well as Longbottom if the Goblins will accept his guardian speaking for him for the short term. That makes eleven, maybe thirteen right there, but that's not enough."

"Can I stand to represent Werewolves?" Remus asked.

"No," Leland answered for him. "As you were made, not born Lycan. I'd be suitable for standing for the Vampires, however. You and Minerva should stand for the governing bodies. Head of the Order, and Head of Hogwarts have both been accepted in the Twenty-Eight before."

"Okay, anyone else have contacts with other magical creatures?" Hermione asked. "We'll have an Order meeting this evening to elect the rest of the wizarding representatives, and give opportunity for Arthur and the others a chance to decline their rightful seats."

"The Sanctuary might have a line on a Lycan," Galahad mused.

Hermione frowned. "Sanctuary?"

"Oh, right, that was _after_ your time," he chuckled. "Dr. Magnus is… well, she reminds me a good deal of you. She runs a worldwide network which houses, protects, and if need be, captures creatures which fall through the cracks of the wizarding and muggle worlds. Not magical enough for wizards, but with abilities or characteristics that frighten the muggles."

"Well don't you just have your mitts in every corner of the world," Hermione teased. "I presume you have means to contact her?"

"I'd need someone to escort me back to the Annex to do so, though I'll be honest and say there's very small chance she'll be able to get here today, even if she does have a Lycan who'd be willing to step up. It's an avenue to explore in the next week, but not going to help today."

"I may be able ter get you a Giant," Hagrid put in. "But again, not gunna happen today."

Galahad shifted uncomfortably. "Giles and DuLac have both been represented in previous Small Council formations. The Goblins would accept myself and Rupert."

"Rupert has no children," Minerva reminded the group. "But Robert does have a son."

"With my ties to the Wizarding World," Rupert added, "The Watchers Council will likely make me their envoy in any case, and as I can't speak for two seats…"

"Goblin, Centaur, Dragon, Badger, Vampire, House-Elf, Librarian, Watcher," Hermione listed, "and Weasley, Ollivander, Giles, and DuLac, along with Head of Hogwarts and Head of the Order."

"That's fourteen," Minerva counted. "That will do it."

"DuLac hasn't been on the council since the beginning of the thirteenth century," Galahad said pointedly. "While I'm reasonably sure the Goblins will accept me nonetheless, I'd feel better if we had a backup."

"Rupert, go find Severus, and have him escort you to London to speak with the Watchers Council," Hermione ordered. "Hagrid, please work with Filius to assemble representatives from the Goblins, Badgers, and House-Elves. Leland can stand for the Vampires, and as I'm the only parselmouth I'll have to get in touch with a Dragon myself. Galahad, I'll be needing a batch of _forma humana_ , if you could kindly brew that. Use Severus' lab. I'll get in touch with Viola via patronus and she'll be at Hogwarts within a few hours. I'm going to need to go have a chat with Mister Fawley. Minerva, if you can step away from Hogwarts, I'd like you to go with me to see him… you are far more likely to get a positive response from him than I would be."

"Because he likes my arse," Minerva muttered. "Very well, but have Hagrid work with Pomona so Filius can hold the fort down at Hogwarts, especially given you're also sending Severus out of the castle."

"That's fine. Pomona is actually a good choice for speaking with the Centaurs. She's got some friends among them already," Hermione agreed. "Hagrid, once you get the Goblins on board use the protean pendant to call an EOM for seven this evening."

"One 'mergency Order Meetin', comin' up," the half-Giant agreed readily.

"Minerva, with me," Hermione said, as she stormed out the door of their quarters.

Minerva shrugged at the assembly of men. "As the lady says," she said cheekily.

Galahad chuckled. "Lady, indeed. Just wait for that hair of hers to frizz up when she remembers that the small council of the Sacred Twenty-Eight bestows Lord and Ladyship to those with seats. She never did enjoy being called _Lady_ Slytherin."

Half an hour later, Minerva found herself in the drawing room of Longbottom Manor listening to Hermione brief Augusta and Algie on the situation. "If the Goblins agree to allow for a guardian to sit for Longbottom…"

Augusta shrugged. "I figured that was where you were going with all this," she said. "Why else would you have come here?"

"Actually…" Minerva said, looking over at Algie. "According to Leland Dourif, Algie… you have progeny yourself that you could claim in order to secure the Fawley seat."

Algie paled in a highly uncharacteristic manner. The jovial man was well known for taking anything and everything in stride, but this seemed to be a subject he did _not_ want brought to light.

"Algernon!" Augusta screeched at her brother. "Is this true?"

The man flinched. In fairness, only an idiot wouldn't be worried at the tone Augusta was using. Minerva thought about feeling bad for the man, but given the amount of times he'd put her in uncomfortable situations with the constant flirting, she figured turnabout was fair play. Especially considering so much hinged on whether or not there was a Fawley heir out there waiting to be claimed.

"I… _had_ a son," he admitted softly. "Though in my defense I didn't know about him until shortly after he died. His mother decided not to tell me about him."

"And he had children," Hermione stated.

Algie nodded. "Two. Neither conceived in the proper manner. My son was a monster. I hope with the influence of the women who have been raising my grandchildren, neither of them will ever become what he did."

Algie glanced guiltily at the necklace Hermione was wearing, and Minerva blinked, shocked into silence as the pieces clicked together. That necklace had been a gift from the children right after the adoption, and was a magical locket with all three of their pictures inside. Harry was most certainly a Potter, and Dudley couldn't argue away the genes Vernon Dursley had contributed, however much he wished he could. Emma, however… and… "Charlie?" she croaked. "And Emma?"

The last remaining Fawley nodded sadly. "Rosmerta, and now you two, have done good by Emma, and Charlie was lucky to have Molly and her husband as parents as he grew up. I never spoke up because, well… I didn't want to turn their worlds upside down for a relationship with them I didn't feel I deserved to have. How could I presume to claim them when I couldn't bear to claim their father?"

Augusta was stunned into silence, which was broken by Hermione's firm voice. "At this juncture, Emma is aware of the manner in which she came to be, and I believe would welcome a new relation. That said, legally speaking she's just become a McGonagall, and I hesitate to ask her to set aside that mantle to take the Fawley one, especially given she's underage and we don't even know if the Goblins will accept a seat claim for someone who has not reached majority. Charlie, however, is one of six Weasley males. Molly and Arthur can take their seat now, and in time that mantle would pass to Bill. Charlie does _not_ know how he came to be, which means before we consider talking to him, I believe it's time you came with Minerva and me to the Burrow to have a word with Molly and Arthur. I believe it's fair that they have a say in whether or not Charlie is approached about taking the Fawley mantle, regardless of his majority."

"I take it you'll be wanting me to come with you now?" he asked, brow furrowing.

"I wouldn't ask this of you if it was not important," Hermione said, tone softening. "I cannot imagine how difficult this will be for you, and for the children, but our options are limited. I cannot form a full council until after the Goblins agree it's necessary. I'm one seat short of being able to call an initial meeting. I need you."

Algie let out a heavy breath. "Well, the Fawley line has been part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight since its conception. If we're really at a point that's going to make or break the wizarding world like you say we are, then the Fawley line will see it done. Let's go speak with Molly."

"We'll be having words when you get back, Algie," Augusta said sternly. "I cannot believe you kept this from me."

The Fawley heir let out a bitter laugh. "Augusta, I will gladly face your wrath provided Molly Weasley doesn't kill me for fathering the man who raped her."

"Don't be such a fatalistic bastard, Algie," Minerva scoffed. "Molly wouldn't kill you. Castrate you, possibly. But killing is pushing it for her."

Augusta huffed, stood, offered a pointed glare at her brother and then walked out of the room without a word.

"I wouldn't blame Molly if she did either," the Algie said with a sigh. "But I'd thank her _not_ to. Let's be off then before I lose my nerve. Some Gryffindor I am."

Hermione laid her hand gently on Algie's shoulder as all three remaining adults stood. "Sometimes being Gryffindor is having the fortitude to know when to walk away. I understand your reasons for not speaking up about your relation to Charlie and Emma. I've been in that position myself. For example, the reason I refuse to reveal how I survived the ages to the general public is because it would likely mean Azkaban for me, even in a stable government."

That statement seemed to snap the man out of his solemn mood, and he cracked a grin. "Oh, I understand completely your reasons, Lady Slytherin. The name _Granger_ has been passed down the Fawley line since your departure, a secret handed down from father to son, awaiting your return. I was… more than a little thrilled that your return was in my lifetime."

Hermione's jaw dropped, as did Minerva's. "Well then," the former said after a moment. "Cards on the table seems to be the theme of the day. I am grateful for your discretion with this knowledge."

"Perhaps when this war is over, and the time for reforming governmental structures is at hand, we could perhaps, with Robert McGonagall's help, institute a new set of laws for time travel restrictions. You should not have to pay a price for impacting a past you never intended to go to."

Minerva could tell that Hermione was touched by the sentiment, but said nothing of it. Rather, she pressed on with the business at hand. It was already almost three, and they still needed to see Molly and Arthur, possibly speak with Charlie, have a Small Council meeting, all before the EOM at seven. "Shall we go?" Hermione queried.

Algie and Minerva both nodded, and the three made their way to the Floo in the foyer of Longbottom Manor, traveling quickly to the Burrow after Arthur confirmed he and Molly were indeed home, and welcomed them to step through.

"Hermione, Minerva, Algie," Arthur greeted. "Molly's just in the kitchen setting up some tea. I'd ask what you were doing here, but I'm guessing it has something to do with the EOM this evening."

"And you'd be correct in that assumption, Arthur," Hermione responded. "However it's a bit more complicated where you and your family are concerned."

The red haired man frowned. "That sounds ominous. Let's get in the kitchen so Molly can hear it too."

The five adults said nothing, save for Minerva and Hermione's polite greeting to Molly. Algie seemed to be having difficulty making eye contact with either of the Weasleys, and Minerva really couldn't blame him. When tea was set a few minutes later, they all sat at the table and Hermione began to explain.

"The Ministry fell early this afternoon. We lost Shacklebolt and Moody in the battle," she said. "In response, I've opted to assemble the Sacred Twenty-Eight before the wizarding world becomes too economically unstable to salvage when the war is over."

Molly and Arthur both nodded, Weasley and Prewett lines both being old families who were well aware of the original intention of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. "I'll take the Weasley seat," the patriarch stated firmly, obviously well aware of his rights.

"My Uncle Ignatius has a son," Molly added. "So the Prewett line is also still active through them. Downside, I haven't heard from them in ages, so it would take some effort to track them down."

"Something to look into," Hermione agreed before continuing her speech. "It's come to my attention that Algie here _had_ a son… a son who did sire two children, one of which could very easily step up as heir to the Fawley line."

Hermione and Minerva watched quietly as Molly paled, and she and Arthur both looked over at Algie. "I didn't even know I had a son until after he died," the older man whispered, finally daring to meet Molly's eyes. "But by extension of him… Charlie is my grandson."

"Merlin…" Arthur breathed. "We had no idea…"

"Why didn't you speak up sooner?" Molly wanted to know.

"Because he was happy not knowing," Algie replied softly. "I am so, so sorry for what my son did to you, Molly."

The woman smoothed her hands over her skirt. "Yes, well, it was a long time ago, and there's nothing you could have done to prevent it ultimately, even if you had been a part of his life. And I got my Charlie out of it, and he's such a good boy… you have nothing to feel guilty over."

The man nodded, though Minerva was fairly sure he was not inclined to agree with Molly's assessment of the situation, save for that she got a wonderful son out of the whole mess. "It's my understanding that Charlie is unaware of the circumstances of his conception," he said softly. "If he is to be offered heirship of my line, then obviously he would need to be told. I realize he's of age and I don't technically need your agreement to speak with him, but I will not speak to him without your agreement, Molly."

Arthur chimed in. "We've been talking a bit about telling him recently anyway, in light of Hermione's informing us that Charlie has a sister - Emma - who might benefit from knowing she has a relation still living. We've agreed that he might benefit from knowing about Emma just as much as she would by knowing about him. As I see it, finding that they mutually have a relation in you, Algie, just increases the reason to finally tell him the truth. Molly, what do you think?"

His wife nodded. "I agree. I've been riddled with guilt keeping Charlie from his sister, and I don't think I could stand to keep him from his sister, _and_ his grandfather. Not to mention his aunt - Augusta, and of course that would make he and Neville cousins."

Hermione snorted. "Hope it isn't too weird for Ginny to realize she's been dating her brother's cousin."

Molly looked amused. "I'm sure she'll survive. That said, my only condition in all this is that Arthur and I be the ones to tell Charlie the truth. I believe we owe him that. He always Portkeys here from Romania when a meeting is called, and as one has been called for tonight, he'll likely be here soon. We'll talk to him when he arrives, and then if Algie is agreeable to come back here at five thirty…"

Algie nodded.

"...then we'll be able to manage a proper introduction before the meeting at seven," Molly concluded.

"And perhaps this weekend we can arrange a meeting for Charlie and Emma," Arthur suggested. "Minerva, Hermione, that should give you time to speak with Emma about her relation to Charlie and Algie, if you also intend to speak with her about all this. I don't want those two to begin their relationship with secrets in the way."

"And regarding my offering to make Charlie my heir?" Algie inquired.

"That should be his decision to make, don't you think?" Arthur asked his wife.

"Yes. He'd appreciate being able to take some control as his life is being turned upside down," she said, thoughtfully. "I've always wondered if I did the right thing in keeping the truth from him all these years. Looks like I'm about to find out."

"Charlie is a very adaptable young man," Minerva assessed. "I believe he'll take the news in stride. Likely, his excitement at newfound relations will overrule whatever sense of betrayal he feels. He was always very family oriented. Never did meet another child who looked out for his siblings the way that Charlie looked out for Percy, Fred, and George, when they were all still at Hogwarts."

Just then, a wolf patronus bounded in the door - Remus' - informing Minerva and Hermione that everyone who needed contacting had been contacted, and the Small Council meeting of the Sacred Twenty-Eight would begin at four-thirty. He reported that the Goblins would accept Augusta in Neville's stead, and would accept the representatives of the Giles and DuLac lines. This meant that while Augusta certainly would need to attend the meeting in less than an hour, Algie could be excused in favor of being able to come back to the Burrow to meet with Charlie, and not have to rush away to get to this meeting. Remus also reported he'd gone ahead and contacted the wizarding families needed for the Small Council meeting, and they'd agreed to attend tonight as well as continue on, along with the rest of the wizarding families they as a group would elect at the Order Meeting at seven. He also noted that Galahad had made contact with the Librarian and his Guardian and they were en route.

"At this rate, I have just enough time to get back to Hogwarts and change and meet this Librarian before the meeting kicks off," Hermione said wearily. "What a bloody day."

Minerva chuckled. "Come on, love. I for one am quite looking forward to meeting your modern day counterpart."

The two bid farewell to Molly, Arthur, and Algie. Algie would be remaining a few minutes to speak with the Weasley couple about a few more details regarding Charlie, but Minerva needed to get an update from Filius on top of changing and meeting their horde of guests. What a bloody day, indeed. At least her morning had been quiet, even if her afternoon and evening were shaping up to be rather pear shaped.

She and Hermione made a mad dash for their quarters, having just finished changing when Galahad arrived to say that Viola's potion was ready, and that Jonathan Dinklage and Kira Vash had arrived with Leland, who had taken a Portkey to New York City to retrieve the pair. The three of them then made their way down the stairs to the Head's Office.

"Mister Dinklage, Miss Vash," Leland said as Minerva and Hermione came into view. "I'd like to present Hermione Slytherin: Head of the Order of the Phoenix, and Minerva McGonagall: Headmistress of Hogwarts."

Kira Vash nodded once to each of the other two women in greeting, though Minerva took note of a look of surprise on the Librarian's face. "Wow. I mean... wow! Not every day that you get to meet one of the most noted Guardians in the history of the Library! Just... wow! It's an honor, ma'am. If Jenkins had _warned_ me who you _are_ , I would have worn a tie."

"What do you mean _in history_ , Jon?" Kira inquired with a frown. Minerva noted her posture had shifted somewhat defensively, trying to decide if Hermione was any kind of threat to her Librarian.

"It means," Hermione answered for him, "that a long time ago I was Guardian to another Librarian. Surely in your line of work, even after only a year, you're familiar with the existence of both time travel and immortality."

"Yes, but with exception to Jenkins, Judson, and Charlene, our experience with such things have involved imminent threats."

Minerva snorted. "Rare to find immortals who don't let it go to their heads, or time travelers who don't abuse the power. That said, you have nothing to fear from Hermione."

"I'm not sure if I'm flattered or insulted by that comment, love," the former Guardian teased. "I'm certainly not someone you'd want to go up against, though I appreciate your trust in my self restraint."

Kira seemed to relax a bit at Hermione's comment. "I suppose the same could be said of me," she reasoned.

"If a Guardian is to be of any value to his or her Librarian, they cannot only be seeking to protect their physical well-being, but their soul as well," Hermione reasoned. "Even if it means saving their soul at the cost of their life."

Minerva noted the haunted look on her partner's face, and suddenly realized that for all the stories she'd heard about Hermione's Librarian from her and Galahad, neither of them had explained the nature of his death. Given her comment, Minerva found herself wondering if Hermione had been put in a position where she'd had to take his life with her own hand, or by her own inaction; if she'd had to choose his soul over his life. The Scottish woman's heart broke at the thought.

"Well," Jon said softly, "Given what I already know of your history - though I hadn't known you were a witch - it's easy to understand why your people chose you to lead the military resistance in this war of yours."

"Makes me wonder if Albus knew about my history with the Library," Hermione muttered under her breath so that only her lover could hear. More loudly, she addressed the newcomers. "Can I take that as a vote of support, Librarian? Will you take your rightful place in the Sacred Twenty-Eight?"

"Sounds like a right quick way to make my stamp on history," he said with a shrug. "One way or another. Count me in, Lady Slytherin."

At the formal addressment, Hermione groaned, obviously just now remembering that the title was granted to those on the council.

Minerva and Leland each raised an eyebrow. Galahad outright laughed. "Told you," he smirked at the Headmistress.

Hermione elbowed the tall immortal. Hard. "You're an arse."

The jabbing pain didn't stop Galahad's laughter, and a moment later both Minerva and Leland joined in. Moments after that, Kira and Jon noticed the pout on Hermione's lips and added their own voices to the jovial mix, and slowly but surely Hermione's pout faded and she too started to chuckle. Laughter was something rarely heard as evidence of the mounting war piled higher and higher in front of them, but that didn't mean it wasn't sorely needed. Minerva knew, having already been through two wars, that laughing over silly moments like these would be the moments that kept them fighting in the months, or Merlin forbid _years_ to come as war raged around them.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	54. Chapter 54

**Deep breath folks! This is the last chapter of Telling Time. All that remains is the Epilogue, which is already mostly written and should be up in a day or two. At that point, I will be taking a break from writing to really fine tune the plotting for part two. Please make sure if you intend to continue following this saga that you add me to your author alerts so you know when part two is posted. Meanwhile, please enjoy the final bit of setting the stage for what promises to be a true epic! Thank you all SO MUCH for your support along the way!**

* * *

Four-thirty arrived quickly, but by some miracle amidst the chaos, fourteen people were filing into a large chamber beneath Hogwarts. It was deep underground and a true bunker, upkept at Hogwarts for times like this in which the magical castle would be home base for the Council of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. As exactly half the seats filled around a large, crescent shaped table, a tall, lanky man with dark hair, a pale face, and thin, sharp features moved to the podium in front of the table.

"I am Lord Griphook, of the Goblin Nation," he announced. "As is tradition, I shall be leading this initial meeting to ensure firstly that the need for forming the Sacred Twenty-Eight is truly there, and secondly to determine if Lady Hermione Slytherin, Head of the Order of the Phoenix, has managed to gather fourteen legitimate candidates to this Council. Obviously, I count as one and so does she… or maybe not so obviously per the ridiculously long time it has been since this council was last formed…"

Hermione, despite wanting to hex the sneer off Griphook's now human face, cleared her throat and stood, knowing it was now time for her to introduce the other twelve she'd brought here today. While she saw only human faces at the table with her, half of them were actually magical creatures under the influence of _forma humana_ , a potion which would give any magical creature a human form for a month once ingested. While in human form, they were still able to communicate with their kind, but taking human form allowed them to go among muggles if need be.

"Lord Galahad Du Lac, standing for House Du Lac," Hermione introduced. Her long time friend stood regal and tall for a moment, waiting to be acknowledged.

"The Goblins accept the representative of House Du Lac regardless of his lack of progeny, as it is well established he is an immortal. If this war extends past five years, the Goblins may demand he magically adopt an heir to secure the line."

"Lord Bane of the Hearthorn Clan, standing for the Centaurs," Hermione continued. The soft brown eyes and gentle human appearance didn't fool Hermione for a second. Firenze would have been her first choice to represent the Centaurs, but it was up to the magical clans themselves to determine who would represent them. Bane was already the leader of the group of Centaurs who lived in the Dark Forest, so he was an obvious choice. That said, while typically calm as most of that species were, Bane was well known for being downright vengeful when offended. _Petty_ had been the word Firenze had used to describe his fellow at one point.

Bane stood almost awkwardly, obviously still adapting to functioning on two legs rather than four. His hands pressed to the table as he regained his balance, and then held his chin high as he stood up straight and stared down Griphook.

The Goblin did not give Bane the satisfaction of looking remotely intimidated, merely raising an eyebrow in annoyance before leaning over a bit of parchment and jotting down a fourth accepted name. "The Goblins accept Lord Bane. No progeny required per Centaur laws being pack in nature, and any Centaur could step into his place provided that they are of sound mind and satisfy Lady Hermione's demand of certain character."

Hermione sighed at the jab, and continued. "Lady Viola Ridgeback, representing the Dragon Legions."

Viola offered Hermione a smile of understanding, she too having more than a few reasons to dislike the Goblins. Her kind had been held in captivity by Griphook's for generations, and it was only because of Hermione's friendship with the Dragon - now a stunningly beautiful blond with piercing blue eyes - that Viola had agreed to come in the first place.

Much to Bane's annoyance, Griphook did look a bit intimidated by the pointed glare that Viola offered, daring the Goblin to decline her the seat. He wisely just accepted. "Lady Viola approved," Griphook muttered, jotting down her name in a hurry.

Hermione's mood was improved at once. "Lord Leland Dourif, a Born Vampire."

"Accepted," Griphook said succinctly. "Lord Dourif is well known to my kind."

"Lord Hector Stewartson, a Badger, representing the Allied Magical Beasts," Hermione kindly introduced one of the few people here today she had very little knowledge of. According to Hagrid, he was a loyal sort, and had been a dear friend of Albus'.

Hector stood, one of the tallest in the room, with grey hair and eyes of steely resolve, though a quirk of his lip spoke of a mischievous side that Hermione imagined would have been a common bond between him and the late Headmaster.

"Hector, good to see you," Griphook greeted in a surprisingly friendly tone. "Looking well, as always."

"Griphook," Hector replied. "Looking constipated as fuck, as always."

Hermione couldn't help it. She let out a small laugh.

After glaring over Hermione's amusement at his expense, Griphook jotted down Hector's name. "Next," he called.

"Lord Dobberic of the House Elf Union," Hermione announced. A small grin formed on her lips as she watched a stick thin young man with overly large ears stand excitedly, a smile on his face that showed his absolute lack of desire to look intimidating. "Easy there, Dobby," she whispered to him.

Griphook looked affronted by the overtly chipper nature of the House-Elf turned human before him, but as House-Elves had always been part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, he had to give Dobby due consideration. "Are you mated, lad?"

"No, sir."

"Are you willing to seek a mate in order to ensure a continuation of your line for the sake of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?" Griphook inquired.

"Dobby has already proposed the rites of courting to nine Elf families with eligible females!"

Hermione sighed. "Lord Griphook, should you accept Lord Dobberic, I can ensure that he finds an appropriate mate within a year's time."

"I imagine this is a condition you'll be presenting with more than one of your candidates," Griphook responded. "However this has precedent. The Goblins accept Lord Dobberic. Next?"

"Lord Arthur Weasley, standing for House Weasley."

"And no concerns there will a viable line," Griphook muttered. "Accepted. Next."

"Garrick Ollivander, standing for House Ollivander," Hermione presented the aging wandmaker.

"Progeny?" Griphook inquired. "I do not recall any Ollivanders other than yourself in the Gringotts accounts."

"I do have a son, and a daughter. Neither have married and as such have never fussed with opening their own accounts," Garrick reported.

"Is your son young enough still to father a child?" the Goblin wanted to know.

"He is, though he has no interest in a family."

"I hesitate to accept your candidacy, sir, if you cannot ensure me your line will continue through your son, despite the fact that the Ollivander family has long been in good standing with the Goblin Nation."

Hermione interjected. "Would you grant us a year to arrange for a betrothal for Garrick's son, my Lord?"

"Betrothal?" Griphook scoffed. "I'd rather he be wed and his new wife already be with child by a year's time."

"The accords state that the standing member of a House must have a son to carry on the line. Garrick does have a son. At best you are anticipating Garrick's demise and assuming the war won't be over by then, at which point the son could not qualify by default of no prospect of an heir. A betrothal should be sufficient, with a year timeline. If Lord Ollivander passes the veil prior to a year from now, and his son is not by then betrothed, I can certainly arrange for a magical adoption to occur within a month."

"I'll accept your terms on a single condition, Lady Slytherin," Griphook said after a pause. "That being that the woman contracted be of a foreign and wealthy family. The Sacred Twenty-Eight must see to economic stability, and as of now I am not seeing very many of your candidates who might provide financial security outside of Magical Britain."

Hermione looked over at the wandmaker, who gave a nod of approval. "Garrett understands duty. He'll do what I ask of him, regardless of how he feels about it."

"We accept your terms, Lord Griphook."

"And the Goblin Nation accepts yours, as well as House Ollivander. Next."

"Lord Robert Giles, standing for House Giles in place of his elder brother, who has declined the seat," Hermione introduced.

Robert stood, and she could detect a fair amount of pride at being able to be acting head of his House, despite being the second son. He wasn't petty enough to see this as a one-up on Rupert, but much like Ron Weasley had once felt like he was in the shadow of his older brothers, Hermione knew that Robert had been looked down on by he and Rupert's father. He was the second son. He did not join the Watchers. He was his mother's son in every way, favoring his wizarding heritage to being part of an old and respected line of Watchers.

"We accept Lord Robert Giles," Griphook agreed without comment. "Young Ethan was in to open his own Gringott's account prior to his returning to school this term. Seemed to be a good boy."

"Not that his father gets much credit there," Rupert whispered in her ear from his seat beside her.

"Shush, you," she chided with a small smile, unable to help agreeing. Ethan was far more like his mother than his father, with a fair touch of the uncle he hardly knew in there as well.

"Next!" Griphook demanded.

"Lady Augusta Longbottom, standing for her grandson Neville, who is underage and under her guardianship."

"I discussed the Longbottom issue with Rubeus a few hours ago," Griphook nodded. "Longbottom House accepted."

"Lord Rupert Giles, standing for…"

"You already have Robert standing for House Giles, Lady Slytherin," Griphook snapped. "There cannot be another."

""Rupert does not stand for House Giles. He declined the seat to his younger brother," Hermione continued, looking annoyed. "Rupert stands for the Watcher's Council, which was their decision, not mine."

She didn't mention that she'd have picked Rupert to stand for the Watchers in any case. Griphook didn't need to know that.

He sighed, annoyed. "Very well. You know as well as I do that I cannot decline the Watcher. Accepted. Next."

"Lady Minerva McGonagall, standing as Head of Hogwarts," Hermione continued. "And it should be noted for your records, Lord Griphook, that Minerva is a Wardling."

"Not that I needed another very good reason to accept her," he replied, looking almostly fondly at Hermione's lover. "But I appreciate you letting me know. Accepted, without reservation. One more, Lady Slytherin."

"Lord Jonathan Dinklage, standing for the Librum Aeternum."

"Ah, and there's the Librarian," Griphook drawled, envy gleaming in his eye. It was well known that any Goblin would pay to get his mitts on the artifacts that the Library protected. "Accepted."

"By my count, including you and me, that makes fifteen accepted candidates," Hermione concluded. "If you do not wish to amend your decision on any of them, that qualifies to summon the other thirteen. Do we need to go over the reasons this council is being formed?"

Griphook looked almost sad. "We lost thirty-seven Goblins at the Ministry this morning. I think that's enough said. The threat Voldemort poses is rising and real, and I'll not argue that at all. How long do you require to assemble the remaining fourteen?"

"Two weeks, if you can give me that long. I should have the remaining wizarding families by this evening, but some of the magical creatures have already started going underground in face of this threat, so I fear finding them won't be easy."

"Ten days," Griphook counter-offered. "We'll reconvene here in ten days time. If you cannot bring together enough by then, the Goblin Nation will make their own selections."

"Very well," Hermione replied, pretending to be frustrated at the shortened timeline. In reality, she only expected to need a week at most, but knew if she said a week that Griphook would have made a counter demand, pushing her luck. Asking for two weeks merely gave her more time than she really needed. Not that she was going to tell him that.

"Small Council session concluded. I will see you all here in ten days."

Griphook excused himself at once, but by the time Hermione had done the rounds and spoken briefly with the newly instated members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, it was already half past five. The Order Meeting would also take place here at Hogwarts, so she'd not have to get anywhere before the meeting at seven.

"Shall we go to our quarters for a bit?" Minerva said softly, as if sensing Hermione's desire for a bit of peace and quiet between one meeting and the next.

"Gods, yes," Hermione moaned.

"Well I was going to suggest a glass of wine to help you relax, but if you go on like that I may go with a different approach to…" Minerva paused, letting her hand ghost over Hermione's exposed neck and down to the flesh between her breasts, in full view compliments of the deeply cut robe Hermione was wearing. "Relieve the tension…"

Hermione shivered at the touch, arousal coursing through her in a rush. It had been a long time since they'd found time to just _be together_. Too long. "Min," she breathed.

Brown eyes met green ones and the hungry look Hermione saw in her lover's gaze told her that she wasn't the only one who needed this. Nothing was said but everything was communicated, and silently Minerva moved to hold tightly to her partner and upon mentally lowering the Hogwarts Wards for a moment, apparated them directly into their bedroom in the Head Tower.

"Need you…" Minerva said, quickly taking hold of the other woman's jaw and pulling her into a frenzied kiss, which Hermione gladly reciprocated. Buttons were unclasped with a reverence that seemed so opposite to the movement of their lips. Within a few minutes, both women were completely naked and the Head of the Order let go of the lead, allowing Minerva to ease her onto their bed and climb on top of her.

"Touch me," Hermione rasped desperately. "Please!"

"Are you wet for me already?" Minerva asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"Ohhhh…" Hermione moaned as Minerva found out the answer to her own question - long, slender fingers driving fast into her core. The Scottish witch paused only a few seconds as Hermione rode the initial wave of pleasure before setting a steady rhythm, leaning forward to get a better angle.

Hermione's lips latched onto the first of Minerva's breasts she could reach, eliciting a strangled cry from the woman on top of her, pace faltering for a moment in aroused surprise. Just as Minerva had found her rhythm again, Hermione let go of the breast, freeing her mouth to whisper a spell to ensure Minerva was getting as good as she gave. " _Sensu resonare_."

"Gods!" Minerva cried out, suddenly feeling her own very slick core being hit with the sensation of strong fingers delving forward. "Oh, mo ghaol, you're not playing fair…"

Hermione rocked her hips against each thrust Minerva made, and all that she felt was translated into Minerva's body in a perfect echo. "Al...almost…" she stammered as the building sensation moved higher and higher up her body.

"Sen.. _sensu resonare_ ," Minerva forced out, allowing her own feeling of Hermione's nails digging into her hips, and the carnal pleasure of the warm wetness coating her fingers to translate back to the body shuddering beneath her.

"FUCK!" Hermione screamed, orgasm shooting through every nerve in massive waves of pleasurable sensation.

A low moan sounded from Minerva as, moments later, she found her own sweet release and collapsed on top of her lover's still shaking body. Hermione's fingers swept over Minerva's sweat coated back, as she slowly raised her leg to the apex of the other woman's thighs, urging forth an aftershock that had Minerva whimpering. "Oh, 'Mione…"

Hermione shifted her hips and urged Minerva off to her side, drawing her partner into a loving embrace, conjuring a warm blanket to cover their naked, spent bodies. They lay there, saying nothing, for the next twenty minutes before they had to get up and grab a quick shower before dressing for the Order Meeting.

To say the least, by the time they walked into the Great Hall - which had been warded for the meeting today until Minerva and Hermione could agree on a more suitable room in the castle for future meetings - they were both feeling highly relaxed and decidedly refreshed.

They were also nearly ten minutes late and the last to arrive, but no one in the Order was foolish enough to comment on the matching blushes on their respective cheeks.

Everyone who had been at the meeting for the Sacred Twenty-Eight was there as well, even those who until tonight's initiation were not Order Members. The seven new faces were a source of much confusion amongst those already existing members, though they seemed to be refraining from suggesting the newcomers bugger off based on the fact that Arthur, Leland, Augusta, Garrick, Robert, and Rupert all seemed familiar with the new faces. It didn't hurt that Algie, Molly, Remus, and Severus seemed to be already in the loop.

Hermione took a deep breath and stood at the front of the crowd. "Attention, everyone!"

Every face in the room turned to look her way, and she could identify every single one of them. This morning, they'd lost two of their eighty-three members, and Hermione knew without a doubt that before the war was over, she'd have to face the loss of more of them. Every time, it would be like losing a friend, because more than her followers, they were each her partners in the battles to come, and she knew more than just their names. She knew _them_.

Dead center of the room were the Weasleys - at least those of them old enough to be Order members. She knew for certain that the self-named _Order Kids_ were all in the Room of Requirement, each bringing to their own table suggestions and ideas on how they could make an impact. She'd thought when the group first began forming that it was just a group of kids with a common factor of being children of those in the Order of the Phoenix, but after starting to notice them traveling in pairs in the evenings alongside the Prefects of the school, doing rounds and ensuring students were safe, she'd stood decidedly corrected. The Head Boy and Girl, along with the official Prefects, were turning a blind eye to the Order Kids' patrolling. Hermione couldn't be more proud of the students of Hogwarts.

Percy Weasley was proving to be a valuable asset, much to her surprise. Her impression of the young man before her fall back through time had been that he was a petty boy with a bit of a superiority complex. Now, she saw that despite his youth, he was a highly analytical thinker and had a knack for seeing the big picture amidst chaos.

Almost Percy's direct opposite, Charlie Weasley was not the sort to see the big picture, but he was aces at solving problems on the fly and reacting well in the face of sudden conflict. He'd be one of the members ideal for missions that included variables they couldn't predict, and Hermione knew that meant he'd be on the front lines a good deal. She desperately hoped his skills would serve him well and keep him safe. Hermione saw Algie Fawley and Augusta Longbottom standing near to Charlie, and despite the circumstances of why the disconnected family had reunited, it seemed they were adjusting well.

The eldest Weasley child, Bill, had recently gotten engaged to Fleur Delacour, and in a show of support Hermione couldn't help but admire, the young French-woman's parents and little sister Gabrielle had relocated to London last month. Hermione had been approached by Eugene and Appolline only last week and asked for admittance into the Order. While both were from old, wealthy families, they didn't have any particular skill sets she'd learned of yet that she could use. That said, with a somewhat bitter remembrance, it crossed Hermione's mind that for the Ollivander family to be admitted to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, a betrothal into a wealthy, foreign family had been agreed upon. She knew the Delacours had been an arranged marriage themselves, and while Fleur and Bill had become engaged of their own accord, perhaps a betrothal between Garrett Ollivander and Gabrielle Delacour might appease Griphook. If they were all lucky, the war would be over before marriage was on the table as a requirement, and the betrothal could be called off. Hermione would have to talk to Eugene and Appolline and get their thoughts.

To the other side of the mass of red hair that was the Weasleys stood their neighbor Xenophilius Lovegood, and other neighbor Amos Diggory. Both men had only a single child to carry on their legacy, though while Xeno's daughter Luna was still in school and as such not in the Order, Amos' son Cedric was standing proudly by his father. Standing beside her husband, Bonnie Diggory's expression mirrored her son's, though Hermione understood completely that that expression was considered traditional on the faces of those belonging to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

To Cedric's other side were the rest of the younger members of the Order, and Hermione couldn't help but look at them, so full of dreams, and wonder if all of them would survive the coming conflicts and be able to see those dreams come to pass.

Cedric himself was working on a Charms Mastery, or had been. Hermione recalled that his Charms Mistress had been on the casualty list of those lost at the Ministry this afternoon. She doubted the young man even knew yet. She made a mental note to speak to Filius about taking over with Cedric so that he could continue his education despite a war going on. Merlin knew a deeper understanding of his chosen field would only serve to make him better prepared for what was to come.

The Head Girl to Cedric's Head Boy, Zoe Samuels' specialty was Arithmancy, and had never really left Hogwarts after graduation per her own Mastery being worked on under Aurora Sinistra here at the school. Hermione, Aurora, and Zoe had spent hours together in the last months working on equations and probabilities. They had figured the Ministry would fall first, and they'd been right. Next, if their calculations were correct, would be St. Mungo's. Hermione made a mental note to speak with those in the Order with contacts at the Wizarding Hospital about what they needed to do to prepare space at Hogwarts for a temporary hospital.

David Nolten and Nick Alas had both joined the Auror Corps directly after graduation, and within six months had walked away and begun privately training with Sirius. They'd felt like they were too low ranking at the Ministry to bring in any useful intel, and the schedule the Head Auror was pushing on them was frequently conflicting with their duty as Order members. Hermione had agreed with their choice, and after today, she was thankful they'd had the good sense to get out before hell broke loose. She could have lost both of them today.

Oliver Wood was the oldest of this young group, and he and Rolanda Hooch were her go-to people for all things air support. As a child, Hermione had scoffed at Harry and Ron's obsession with Quidditch, but she now understood that it was a skill that would serve them well. There was significant tactical advantage to having a team of people who could take to the sky and still cast spells effortlessly. Oliver was certainly putting those skills to use. He'd been one of the Order members called into the attack at the Ministry this afternoon, helping to get as many as they could out of the building before Voldemort's forces locked it down. He'd been one of the reasons that three hundred and twelve souls had not been killed this afternoon, and in the years to come, he'd have a nice long scar on his left leg to prove he'd been there. Poppy and Janet had patched him up, but the curse he'd been hit with would not allow complete restoration. He'd have a bit of a limp now, but it didn't seem to be keeping him down.

Maxwell Perks had excelled in both Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures while he was in school. He also had a natural talent for diplomacy, and Hermione hoped to utilize his combined skills in the next week as they recruited the others needed from the magical creature communities for the formation of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Further, the young man and his younger sister Sally-Anne had lost both their parents at the Ministry today, and it was absolutely devastating to see the look of bitter determination on a face so young. Hermione had been the one to tell him, stopping in on him before returning to Hogwarts. She'd helped him pack his belongings and vacate his flat, knowing without his even asking that he'd want to be close to his sister from here on out. He'd taken up lodgings in the quarters next to Atticus Bowman. She hoped Atticus could help Maxwell and Sally-Anne through their grieving process.

Wyatt Zabini had been Severus' Potions protege, and he was now living in Hogsmeade with a rather motley group of muggles to act as a line of defense in case of attack. His young wife - not quite graduated - was standing with him. Ophelia's best subject was Defense, and she would be joining her husband in Hogsmeade as soon as she graduated. Meanwhile, she was the youngest Order member to date, Hermione only allowing her admittance per her marriage to Wyatt. The couple had been the talk of the school only a few years back, when what had been a hostile rivalry had escalated to a duel. It had taken Severus, Filius, and Minerva to break up the duel, all sustaining injuries in the process. Rather than expel the then fifth and sixth year students whose records were previously spotless, Wyatt and Ophelia had been made to spend detentions getting to know each other in hopes they could set aside the animosity. Three months later Minerva had walked into her classroom early one spring afternoon to find the pair getting decidedly hot and heavy on her desk. Minerva had not been amused, but the following set of _separate_ detentions had not put a stop to the two students' budding romance.

Hermione's gaze drifted back to the center of the room, to where Leland was standing protectively behind Molly, alongside the now humanized Dobby, Viola, Bane, Hector, and Griphook. The Goblin had left in a hurry after the small council so that he could go back to Gringotts and report, and on their orders he'd be residing here at Hogwarts for the foreseeable future, along with his fellows.

To the right of Leland stood the Giles family. Rupert, Robert, and Samantha had eyes on her, as did those to Leland's right. Severus stood by the man he now called a friend, and to his own right was his aunt and her lover. Hermione saw Evelyn whispering something to Galahad, and she realized that if anyone other than herself knew about the Library, it would be the Head of the now fallen Department of Mysteries. Jon Dinklage and Kira Vash seemed at ease with Evelyn and Galahad talking, and by the touch of a blush on Evelyn's face, Hermione wondered what sort of history Annabeth's partner had with her own former lover.

Standing near to Samantha Giles was Vivian Brown, the mother of Hermione's old dorm-mate, Lavender. The two women had a long standing friendship starting back in their own school days, when both Slytherins had chosen to marry Gryffindors. They were both the sort to judge on character and not house, and that lack of judgmental attitude seemed to extend even into the muggle world. Beside them were Tobias Snape and three Umbridges - Muggle, Squib, and Witch respectively. Hermione closed her eyes briefly as she caught her mother's eye from where she stood by Tobias. She had not beat the Death Eaters to her parents' house that fateful night a few weeks ago, and her father, John, had paid the ultimate price. Jean Granger seemed to be adapting to life in the wizarding world fairly well, and enjoying the opportunity to get to know Dudley, Emma, and Harry, along with Ron Weasley, who was seldom seen anywhere but by Harry's side.

Another to really welcome the muggles into their midst with open arms was the Muggle Studies professor, Charity Burbage. Charity, along with the rest of the staff, were forming a line at the back of the mass of people. Hermione glanced at Minerva, Filius, Pomona, Rolanda, Sybill, Bathsheba, Irma, Poppy, Remus, Hagrid, Patrick, and Septima in turn, grateful that despite being offered a severance if they wanted to get to safety, all had chosen to stay and join the Order.

Mixed among the staff were the other McGonagalls - Robert, Patrick, Jackie, and Malcolm - along with Malcolm's new wife Dora, and her parents. Ted and Andromeda Tonks were also joined by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius having finally seen Voldemort for who he really was and joined his wife's line of thinking that their survival really did rest on Hermione. Standing by Lucius were the Changs, both of whom he had a standing relationship with. Guowei worked at the Ministry in the Department of International Affairs, while his wife managed the Diagon Alley post office. It had actually been their daughter Cho that convinced the couple to join the Order.

Liu Chang seemed to have been conversing with her fellows from Diagon Alley, Darsie Eeylop, Miranda Malkin, and the Ollivanders, while her husband spoke with Lucius, Thomas McKinnon, and Atticus Bowman, who had all previously crossed paths working at the Ministry. Also a former Ministry employee, Robert McGonagall stood with the two oldest members - Aberforth Dumbledore and Elphias Doge, each having admitted they never would have joined while Albus was in charge. Hermione hoped she didn't let them down regarding their expectations of her leadership ability.

Sirius, of course, was in easy reach of Remus, and to no surprise Amelia was standing right by her new husband. The pair had run off to the Ministry and eloped directly after leaving Patrick and Dora McGonagall's wedding.

The last of the members, Janet Hammond and her husband George stood close to Poppy Pomfrey. George had only last evening managed to get a portkey back from America, and not a day too soon. Hermione shook her head, knowing she'd been lost in her thoughts too long already, and set aside what she was feeling.

It killed her to know some of these lives would be cut short, but that was the nature of war. Even she couldn't be certain she'd survive and in a way it gave her some comfort to know that her life was as uncertain as the rest of theirs. All she could really hope for was that after it was all over, a lasting peace could be found in the ashes of the horrors before them now.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," she said to the silence before her. "As many of you may already know, there was a battle at the Ministry of Magic early this afternoon. Voldemort's forces have completely taken over the Ministry, and by extension we expect no more than a week before Mungo's and Gringotts fall as well. The war has begun."

* * *

 **What do you all think of some of the new characters introduced in this update? PLEASE REVIEW!**


	55. Chapter 55

**First, I want to thank all of you SO much for sticking with me as this story developed, and for the show of support I'm getting still as I prep to launch into part two of this series. Writing Telling Time has been an incredible growing experience for me as a writer, and as a person. This update does conclude Telling Time, and it will be marked as a complete story as soon as this is posted. For some announcements.**

 *** I will be taking some time to finish plotting out the rest of the series before starting Part Two - Seeking Time. I don't anticipate that will take too long, so don't panic. First chapter of Seeking Time will be posted before Christmas, at latest.**

 *** This is the last post for this story. If you want to be sure you get an alert when Seeking Time is posted, please make sure to hit the "follow author" button and keep your eyes out for that title.**

 *** Special thanks to my Beta, CherriiMarina, for her input and editing skills as I write this story. In particular, thanks to her for being the best friend a girl could want, and for threatening me with grievous bodily harm anytime I just want to quite writing. As she's also my roomie, her threats are most certainly something she could feasibly carry out, so I push past my self doubt and frustration and get to writing. She's a genius.**

 *** Further thank you to Sierra, Bethany, Yamali, Jenna, Amanda, Deidre, Shanna, Mariska, and Emma - you ladies know who you are - my cheerleaders. Thank you all so much for the support, both on Telling Time and Lost Founder, and in my life as a while. Rock stars, all of you!**

 **Without any further delay... the epilogue of Telling Time...**

* * *

Two women with dark brown hair stood side by side atop a hill, looking down on the gates of Hogwarts, at the line of injured people flooding into the newly established refugee camp. One woman's eyes were brown, like her mother's, but the other had blue eyes. They both appeared to be in their thirties, though both were considerably older than that. One was a witch and the other a squib, or so she claimed. The witch often wondered if her companion simply chose not to use her magic. Of course, as the latter's life was spent working with creatures - humanoid and otherwise - fancy spellwork was hardly necessary in her day to day life.

"So that's Hermione Granger," the blue-eyed one sighed as she gazed, British accent thick but far from garbled. "Does she know I'm here?"

The elder, brown-eyed woman scoffed. "She doesn't know I'm alive, much less here. The last honest to God conversation I had with my mother was years and years before you were even conceived, so no, she doesn't know about you at all. Of course, given how much my mother tends to know about things she shouldn't know about, she may know _about_ you if Galahad has opened his big mouth, just not who you are to her. Follow me, I'd like to just…"

"Spy on her a bit more?" the other teased. "Lucy Slytherin, could you be more juvenile?"

Lucy glared at her companion. "That's rich, coming from you, young lady. I've waited all these years to see her again, to be free of this damned immortality, and she doesn't even know I still exist. Call me petty, but I do plan on at least enjoying the look of utter shock on her face when I confront her. Also hardly fair when you've left her grappling with Griphook for three weeks trying to hunt you down."

"When you confront her is the issue at hand, mother," the blue-eyed woman commented. "If not for your stalling, I'd have answered Galahad's calls the first time. The poor chap is probably worried sick by now. Further, you claim you wish to be free to live and age normally, and yet she's been back in her proper time stream for how long now? Two years?"

"Two years exactly to the day," Lucy replied. "I'm an advocate for comic timing. She vanished from my life on May the second, and I will show up to haunt her today, on the exact same day."

By this point, Lucy and her daughter were close enough to overhear the conversation taking place between Hermione and Minerva McGonagall. The Head of the Order and the Head of Hogwarts stood side by side at the gates of of the school, ushering in the latest batch of refugees. Nearly seven hundred witches and wizards were already here. Classrooms that had not been used in years were now utilized as living space for the displaced population. The castle was not the only thing impacted, however. The Quidditch Pitch was being utilized as a shopping center of sorts - shop owners bringing what they could salvage from their stores in Diagon Alley and other such places, in order to provide fellow refugees with clothing, food services, and thanks to Garrick Ollivander, new wands to those in need. Gringotts was inaccessible at this point, so Lucy imagined that someone was helping to coordinate a fair barter system. When things eventually went back to normal, the proprietors should not be left destitute for their charity.

"If you require medical attention, please see our volunteer mediwitch and wizards in the large white tent!" Hermione announced to the roughly two hundred newcomers who'd just gotten off the Hogwarts Express.

"Wise to bring people here by train," Lucy commented. "It allows for Order members to clear anyone coming, ensuring none of Voldemort's people just show up and play helpless."

Her companion nodded in agreement as Hermione's direction continued. "If you do not need medical attention, please go directly to the registration tent - that big blue one over there - and we'll get you sorted and settled in as soon as we can. I know you're tired, but please bear with us, as we are trying to ensure the safety of everyone here."

"Who's manning administration today?" Minerva asked.

"Annabeth and Evelyn showed up this morning, asking how they could help, so I put them both in there," Hermione replied. "I think Patrick and Dora are also in there. Who's in Medical?"

"Irma and Jackie. I suspect Charlie is in there helping out as well. He apparated in only a half hour ago," Minerva said. "I just saw Molly a few minutes ago, and she said he found her, said hello, and then said he was off to find somewhere to be helpful. As medi-training is required to be a Dragon Handler, he likely ended up there before long."

Lucy sighed as she took the scene in, allowing her focus to drift away from her mother for a moment. The air smelled like blood and sweat as the many injured walking by them now were being assessed by Minerva's brother Malcolm, who was handling triage today. Each person was given a color - purple or orange - which would sort them into two lines in front of the medical tent. Orange meant urgent, and was the shorter line and the first taken to be treated by the more experienced Mediwitch on duty - Malcolm McGonagall's wife Jackie in today's case. Those tagged purple would be seen in order by the secondary Mediwitch or wizard - Irma Pince today - who would treat them. If someone like Charlie Weasley was available when they had refugees coming in, someone with basic medical skills, the secondary would hand off the more superficial injuries to him or her.

"I don't know how many more Hogwarts can take," Minerva said softly, not wanting to be overheard. "It will be hard to run a school with all these extra people around, come September, and we both know we'll have more people here by then, not less."

"I know the school is a bit packed at the moment, but we cannot turn people away and I can't get them out of here until I can manage to get the damned link between the other Rooms of Requirement working."

"Term starts in four months, by which time there will be more people here, not less. If you can't get that system working, where are we to conduct classes?" Minerva asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione smirked. "I realize this will sound like blasphemy but I believe the students would agree with me when I say that the safety of their families is of greater import than any kind of studying."

Lucy and her daughter both smirked at that, knowing very well that their respective study habits had come to them honestly. The Headmistress seemed to be amused as well, and Lucy was suddenly reminded that the two of them were a couple. She'd known Minerva for years and years, and it was somewhat disconcerting to find a woman who'd become a surrogate _daughter_ of sorts was involved with her bloody _mother._

Minerva crackled. "Why, Miss _Granger_ ," she whispered. "I never thought I'd live to see the day you thought _anything_ was more important than studying."

"Jackie!" Malcolm called to his wife urgently, rushing past them with a small boy in his arms. "Give whoever you have to Irma! You need to take this kid _now!_ "

Any good mood in the air around the two pairs of women vanished in an instant. At a glance, Lucy could tell that the child was covered in blood, presumably his own. He had not been conscious, and her gut lurched at the prospect that he may not make it. He would not be the first to die in recent weeks, and wouldn't be the last. For the time being, the deceased were being kept in stasis charms, locked in the old staff room. When all this was over, people would want to bury their loved ones in family plots. The really horrible fact of the matter was that this nightmare wasn't anywhere near over. It was just beginning.

"I should be down there helping."

Lucy looked over at her daughter, unsurprised by the statement. If she was honest, it was a relief to see her little girl showing willingness to actually get involved in this. So much of her was invested in her own work that she seldom was willing to step away from it for more than a short time. "Do you want to help?" she asked. "And by help, I mean stay and help. I know you're busy but…"

"Since when has Dr. Helen Magnus backed down from an opportunity to help the sick, injured, and helpless?" the other woman replied firmly. "Sanctuary for all, mother. It's not an empty motto. I obviously cannot bring all these people to the Sanctuary but I can bring at least part of it to them."

Lucy smiled, and then glanced back over at her own mother. She took a deep breath and steeled herself to approach the woman she'd spent too many years and too much energy being angry at. It had taken time for her to find peace in the departure of her time traveling mother, but she'd found it eventually. Now, it was time for them to reunite. She turned to Helen. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

 **Yes, the first chapter of Seeking Time will reunite mother and daughter. It's coming! PLEASE REVIEW!**


End file.
